The Price of Freedom
by Astraldust
Summary: Captured offworld, John and Rodney are sold into slavery. A Shep centred story with a whump or two. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

Summary:- Captured offworld, John and Rodney are sold into slavery. A Shep centred story with a whump or two.

Spoiler:- None really. Story takes place after Return Pt2 and before Sunday.

Rated:- T for violence and mild language.

Disclaimer:- I don't own Stargate Atlantis. If I did, Shep would be whumped more often and the series would have at least 10 seasons.

Sorry no beta so all the mistakes are mine.

The Price of Freedom

He let out a low moan and shivered violently against the bone chilling cold that seemed to be creeping into his body from every angle as it worked its way into the pores of his skin and the gaps in his clothing. As the irritation spread, his shivering grew more pronounced and he started to come out of his stupor. And with full awareness came a deep searing ache, making him wish that oblivion would reclaim him as every joint and every muscle made its presence known.

Although reluctant, he attempted to move in an effort to ease the discomfort, but his limbs refused to co-operate as the aches turned to a stronger pain. He gave up, as even a little exertion left him exhausted and in real agony.

So keeping perfectly still, he waited for the pain to ease and after several long minutes, the torment finally calmed down to a more bearable ache. After giving it a few more minutes, he cautiously lifted his head off the stone hard floor and tried to assess his surroundings. The dimly lit room gave him little to go by, but he seemed to be in a very confined stonewalled space.

A question entered in his fuzzy mind. _Had he landed in a prison cell?_ However, any further attempt to concentrate proved difficult through his pounding headache, which was making his thought processes extremely sluggish and confused. He eventually managed to form a few more questions. Foremost of which was. _Where the hell was he? Moreover, how in heaven's name did he get here? _But even those few questions proved too much, leaving him even more perplexed. For a while, his hazy mind was overwhelmed, so he tried to switch off. However, something important was bothering him, something very fundamental. He closed his eyes and attempted to dig through his hazy thoughts and then suddenly, he realised that he didn't even remember his own name.

Panic began to set-in when he tried to focus on that memory. To dig up that vital piece of information from his sluggish brain. It took several minutes of hard concentration before the memory suddenly came to him like a switch being flicked. John. His name was John - _John?_ He paused as the rest stubbornly refused to emerge.

John squeezed his eyes tightly until his head buzzed with a pressure that threatened to burst a blood vessel. Then it came to him. Sheppard…yes, he was John Sheppard of the United States Air Force. Service number? Service number? But for the life of him, that memory just would not surface, no matter how hard he tried.

The effort of remembering took a terrible toll on his well-being. He felt dizzy and his head pulsated with an unrelenting throbbing pain. So to ease his anguish, he let go of all thought and gave into the shadows. The pain gradually eased up enough to allow him to drift into a semiconscious state.

How long John laid there he had no way of knowing but finally his mind cleared enough to allow him to open his eyes once more. He was greeted with the same dismal sight even if it was somewhat lighter and John was able to make out slightly more detail. He moved his hand and carefully ran it over the floor. Its surface felt like concrete or smooth rock. It certainly felt hard enough beneath his sore and aching body.

The walls consisted of rough looking stone with a small window high up on one side. John turned his head with difficulty, causing a stabbing pain to shoot up his neck but he was rewarded with the sight of a simple door seemingly made of some kind of wood. A small barred window made up part of the door, so his first impression had been correct. It was a cell.

However, the memory of how he'd ended up here still refused to surface, so he had no idea how he came to be in this small and smelly prison. Then something did emerge through his lethargic thoughts. _Afghanistan?_ He must have been caught by the Taliban, which meant he must have crashed his chopper. That would certainly explain his current physical condition. Not that he had had the strength or ability to examine his wounds until now, but the aches and pains were real enough to make him believe that he was injured. Reasoning that maybe he had the energy to evaluate his condition, Sheppard carefully eased himself up. The effort sent ripples of discomfort through his limbs, but it wasn't as unbearable as before.

Carefully propping himself onto his elbow, he looked down at his clothing and was surprised to see a pair of badly torn black BDUs and an equally ragged black t-shirt covering him. He was perplexed as he muttered. "What the hell happened to my desert combat uniform?"

When that answer refused to surface, John gingerly peeled back one of the larger rips in his T-shirt and prodded the nasty looking bruise beneath. He sucked in a breath at the pain but single-mindedly continued to investigate and prod other areas of damage. His whole body seemed to be covered in a multitude of bruises and abrasions. Fortunately, nothing appeared to be broken. Moreover, apart from some shallow cuts, there were no deeper wounds. He was darn grateful for that because an infection could have lead to untold problems and well, the stories he'd heard about the Taliban's' hospitality hadn't been all that wonderful.

However, what worried John the most was the fact that he still couldn't remember anything tangible. His head still ached but at least the throbbing pain had stopped. John vaguely wondered what had caused that, so he carefully lifted his hand and gently probed his scalp. He sucked in an, "ouch," when his fingers encountered a large egg shaped bump at the back of his head. He quickly pulled his fingers away and examined them. Thankfully, there was no sign of blood so the skin probably wasn't broken. John had no doubt that the head injury could have caused his memory loss but thankfully, it didn't feel like a concussion. Sure, his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, almost as if he'd been drugged or something. He was also very thirsty, but he didn't feel nauseous or dizzy anymore.

John let a loud groan pass through his lips before easing himself higher to survey the cell more closely, mainly in the hope finding water. Then a realisation struck him; the room was completely empty. There was no bed or blankets, no table or chair, not a sign of water or food. Moreover, it was still darn cold, which probably meant that he was being held high up in the mountains somewhere_. Not good for an extraction_, he reasoned.

"Damn it! Why do these things always happen to me?" John muttered, before gently lowering himself back onto the stone hard floor. He was in a bad situation and he prayed that they wouldn't parade him in front of a camera before lopping off his head for all to hear about on CNN. His colonel father would not be pleased.

Several more minutes could have passed before John moaned and instinctively rolled onto his side to huddle together to form a tight ball. It helped to conserve what little warmth was left in his body, but the dying thirst and hunger was unrelenting and getting worse with each passing minute. He let his mind drift again. _Forget the camera parading_, he thought. He'd probably die of thirst if no one comes soon.

As if on cue, his ears caught the faint clacking of the door's lock being turned. Deciding it was best to feign sleep in order to gather Intel, John made himself relax and breathe evenly. Although how much information he could gather when he couldn't understand _Dari_, was questionable.

He stained his senses as he heard several pairs of feet approach. They came to rest near his vulnerable back and John braced himself. However, instead of the anticipated kick, a gruff voice in a language he'd never heard before started babbling loudly above his head. There appeared to be two men in the room. One had a deep and hard grating tone when he shouted at the other who replied in a softer more submissive voice.

Then unexpectedly, the gruff man suddenly switched to a language that John was very familiar with when he bellowed. "You are a fool, Tarmas! If we intend to make money out of this one, then you should have attended to his injuries when he was first brought here."

John had no idea what the hell the man was talking about until the submissive one answered and what he said made John's blood run cold. "I'm sorry, Marco, but this one gave us plenty of trouble and he put up quite a fight, but I promise to get him sorted out before the auction."

John's mind whirled. _Auction? Didn't that mean selling things?_ _Wait, I'm to_ _be sold? Who the hell would be interested in buying me?_ Then a terrible memory came to mind. Terrorists like Osman Bin Laden were said to be holed-up in Pakistan somewhere. What if these people had contact to them. _But surely, they wouldn't want to pay good money for a simple Air Force Major, would they?_ John's mind was so full of questions that he didn't even realise that one of the men now had his face pressed closely to his. Didn't realise it that is until the man's pungent breath accosted his nostrils.

John didn't really want to open his eyes but he was forced to do so when a rough hand grabbed him by the chin. "I know you are conscious so you need not pretend to sleep anymore." The soft-spoken one advised him.

Having no choice in the matter, John cracked his eyes open to look at his captor and was surprised to see a fair-skinned man of about his own age with cropped light brown hair. However, the steely blue eyes that looked back at him were hard and cold.

The man wasted no time when he suddenly grabbed John by his T-shirt and roughly dragged him over to a wall to prop him upright against the coarse stone. Although the action had sent pain ripping through his body, John attempted to rearrange the now very shredded T-shirt back over his chest. It was a useless gesture and John gave up when suddenly he found a cup of water being pressed against his dry lips. As the man tilled the cup, John drank greedily but before he could overdo it, the cup was withdrawn.

"That is enough for now. You will get some more once the doctor has looked at you." The man promised.

Saying no more, the one called Tarmas moved over to the other man and resumed conversing in the strange language again. John looked warily towards them and got his second surprise when the other man turned out to be ginger haired. _What the heck?_ John thought. _Are the Taliban recruiting westerners to do their dirty work now? _

After a few minutes, Tarmas fumbled with the latch and opened the door. As the two men departed, John caught a final sentence from the redhead. "I hope the other is in a better condition?" The door closed before John could hear the answer.

Their visit left John even more confused but his lethargic mind could no longer process the many questions he still had. Feeling drowsy and light headed, he let go and drifted for a while until the cold forced him onto the floor where he instinctively curled up to conserve heat as oblivion reclaimed him.

-SGA-

The next thing he knew, a pair of rough hands grabbed him off the floor and before he realised it, he was being stripped of his shredded and dirty clothing.

He felt bewildered and overwhelmed by the whole process. Although, he was please to find that he felt marginally better than the last time he'd been conscious. Disappointingly, his memory still hadn't returned so he still couldn't remember how he'd landed in this crappy situation.

The two people who were stripping him quickly had him uncovered and he was mortified when he realised that one of them was a woman. Granted she was older, but he was still embarrassed by the process, especially when they started to wash him down with warm soapy water and none too gently either. Okay it was probably necessary when John realised, with further embarrassment, that the smell he thought was in the room was in fact emanating from him.

John tried his hardest not to cry out when they scrubbed his bruises and minor cuts. "Haven't you heard of the Geneva Convention?" he muttered, as they roughly finished drying off his skin.

They stopped to stare at him as if he was crazy before handing him a piece of white cloth about the size of a bath towel. John was grateful for that small concession and he quickly fixed it around his waist.

The moment he was finished, he found himself being pulled out of the room on shaky legs. Luckily, they didn't make him walk too far before he was pushed into a white walled room and made to sit on a couch that was placed against the furthest wall. It looked suspiciously like an examining table, but then John remembered the soft-spoken man saying something about getting him sorted out.

John remained alert while he waited on the couch trying his hardest to resist the urge to lie down and rest his aching body on the soft padded surface. Fortunately not long after his arrival, a white haired elderly man entered the room, somewhat reluctantly it would seem. The man was moaning to someone beyond the door but John couldn't catch what he said.

Eventually with a disgruntled huff, the elderly man shut the door and ambled over to him. He wasn't big and didn't look very strong so John weighed up his options of trying to make a run for it. Although how far could he get in his current condition, with just a cloth tied around his waist, was questionable.

The doctor must have guessed his intent because he suddenly spoke up. "If you think you can escape, I am afraid to say that there are guards posted outside the door. I would help you, but they would have my head for such an action. Now could you please lie back so that I can examine you?"

Reluctantly, John complied hoping that he would get a chance to escape later. Lying back on the soft couch, he remained alert but was surprised when the doctor pulled out various old-fashioned bottles and instruments from a nearby cupboard. They looked like something out of an 19th century medical drama or a museum. This made John wonder even more about his location.

Without a word, the doctor gently examined John's cuts and bruises, with only the occasional, "tut tut," passing through his lips. He opened one of the bottles and applied it to the worst of the cuts. It stung like hell and smelt vaguely like iodine.

"Well, you will live." The doctor announced, after a while. "You are lucky, as although there is extensive bruising and abrasion, there is no sign of an infection. They certainly must of giving you a sound beating."

"Yeah, so it would seem but I can't remember a thing."

"Really? You have lost your memory completely or just the events surrounding your capture?"

John looked at the doctor wondering just much how information he should really reveal. "Recent events only," he supplied. "I'm John Sheppard – Major - United States Air Force, service number…service number?" But for the life of him, John still couldn't recall that piece of information and his dog tags seemed to be missing.

The doctor looked at him as if he was deranged or something before shining a light into his eyes and muttering. "I did not understand what you just said apart from your name. This United States…err…what is that?"

It was John's turn to look perplexed. "The United States of America. You know, the folks that invaded your country recently to oust the Taliban."

The doctor looked astounded. "We have been invaded?"

John was beginning to grow concerned. "Yes. This is Afghanistan isn't it?"

The old man shook his head. "I do not know what you are talking about? And I am sorry but I can not reveal our location."

"Why not?"

"I can tell you this. You were captured and brought to this place to be sold. I do not like the practice, but there is little that I can do about it." He gave John a sad glance before continuing. "Apart from the bad bruising, a few cuts and the side effects of the drugs you were given, you are in excellent health. Maybe a little on the slim side for some people's liking but I am sure they will pay a good price for you."

John looked at him in shock. "I am not for sale," he emphasised.

"Sadly, that is what they all say. Your memory should return once the drugs have left your system completely. However, that could still take days," he told John, before quickly packing away the bottles and instruments back into the cupboard. "I cannot tell you anymore, as I must go now. The guards will take you back to the holding cell."

John desperately wanted to ask more but the doctor quickly slipped out of the room allowing two huge guards to enter behind him. Weighting up his options once more, John decided that he certainly wasn't strong enough to take them on, just yet. Nevertheless, as they led him back towards the cell, John became more determined to escape this place before he ended up someone's slave.

Upon reaching their destination, John was forcibly shoved back into the small cell and the door secured behind him. He turned to curse the guards but they had already left.

Sighing loudly, he moved away from the door and got a mild surprise to find that a narrow bed had now been placed along the shortest wall. Straw had been scattered in one corner and a bucket placed nearby. John looked at it with revulsion and he wondered if he was meant to use it as a toilet. Looking away, he carefully peered under the bed and found a small mug and a jug of cold water. Picking up the jug, he cautiously sniffed it. The water seemed fresh enough and as he was still very thirsty, he poured a small amount into the cup and drank greedily.

John noted that a rough tunic made of some kind of linen material and a few coarse looking blankets had been placed on top of the bed. He didn't need much encouragement to quickly don the garment and wrap a blanket around his shoulders. It was still darn cold in the little room and the whole matter of visiting the local quack had left him fatigued both physically and mentally. So settling down on the hard bed, he curled up on his side and fell asleep almost the minute his head made contact with the thin mattress.


	2. Chapter 2

The Price of Freedom - Part 2

The following days went by in a haze. No one came except to bring him fresh water and surprisingly, halfway decent food, which he ate in order to regain his strength and not because he was hungry. And having no other choice, John had been forced to use the bucket to take care of the necessaries. He was thankful that it had been changed at regular intervals.

Whenever someone came into his cell, John tried asking questions but they stubbornly remained silent. This added to his frustration, as his memory still hadn't returned. Although, the occasional flash of a lost recollection would quickly pass before he could grab hold of it, but at least it gave John some hope that it would all come back to him, eventually.

John lost count of time as the days continued to flow by and he was baffled by the seemly short length of the day. Unless he was drifting and sleeping more than he realised, the light in his cell seemed to go by quicker than normal. This made him wonder what country he was being held in, and his poor brain had been working overtime trying to figure out who still practised slavery. If he hadn't known better, he could have sworn that he'd been adducted by alien invaders, but this didn't fit in with people's accounts of little grey men on late night talk shows. John smiled at that thought as he settled onto the hard bed for yet another cold night._ I_ _have to keep a sense of humour or I'll go nuts,_ he thought before shutting his eyes.

He slept soundly that night and morning came quickly but not with the usual routine as several people entered his cell armed with fresh clothing and soapy water. Before he knew it, John was abruptly dragged from his bed and stripped of his clothing.

Like before, they washed him roughly but this time the pain wasn't as bad as most of his bruises were already healing and starting to fade. Once he was dry, they made him put on a fresh garment made of a slightly better material. It comprised of a close fitting tunic top in dark brown and pants in light beige. However, his feet were left bare.

As quick as they came they departed, leaving him alone with a plate of fresh bread and some fruit for breakfast. John swallowed it all even though in the pit of his stomach he knew something was about to happen.

He didn't have long to wait before two guards returned to hustled him roughly out of the cell. They quickly escorted him into an enclosed courtyard, which sported some very high smooth stonewalls making escape impossible.

This was John's first time out in the open since the whole fiasco had begun. The bright light of the overhead sun caused him to squint and shield his eyes, but it gave him little in the way of comfort or warmth.

Before he really had the chance to take note of his surroundings, the guards grabbed him again and held him tightly as his wrists were firmly secured with two heavy metal manacles, which were joined by an extremely strong looking chain.

John protested loudly but that earned him a hefty slap across the back of his head before one of the men fastened a metal collar around his neck. Another guard then attached a chain to the collar and proceeded to pull John along like a dog on a leash. John tried to resist but the guard yanked him so hard that he stumbled and nearly fell as they passed through a large portal into a bustling street full of people seemingly going about their daily lives.

John continued to lurch and stagger behind the guard, totally mortified as people stopped to stare at him. Some showed pity while others gapped at him with contempt. Calming his nerves, John held his head high and stared back at them with defiance while trying not to fall flat on his nose.

Although it was difficult, he also managed to take in his surroundings as they travelled down the dusty road. There were rough stones and sand beneath his bare feet but as the doctor had said, this certainly wasn't Afghanistan. John's confusion grew more pronounced at the sight of some very unfamiliar looking buildings. Some appeared to be constructed of simple light grey stone while others were ornately carved out of some type of dark material in a design that he'd never seen before.

However, most puzzling of all were the people themselves. If this had of been Afghanistan, then John would have expected to see darker skinned people with black hair but everyone who passed him was fair or blond. Their clothing was unusual too as the women wore mainly ankle length skirts with tunic tops in subdued colours while the men were decked out in tunics not unlike the one he'd been made to wear.

So, John couldn't hazard a guess as to where on earth he was, but one thing for sure escape seemed to be impossible for now. Not only because of his bonds but also because of the two other guards that followed closely behind them. They were carrying some very strange, blade like weapons that looked like something out of an old Star Trek episode. This left John even more baffled.

The hike went on for about thirty-minutes until finally the guard came to a halt before a very impressive looking white stone building that reminded John of a sports arena. Several heavily armed people came out of a side door to greet them and John's guard started conversing in the strange language again. They chatted and laughed for several minutes before John was abruptly handed over to the strangers and dragged off into the building.

He was towed down several long, dimly lit and smelly corridors until eventually they arrived in a large area that was partitioned into what looked like holding pens. Each cell was divided by solid looking walls but the end facing the corridor had evenly placed metal bars running vertically along its length giving the captive a full view beyond. There must have been at least a fifty or so of these cramped cells and John noted that most seemed to be already occupied with pitiful looking men and women, some openly weeping while others were quiet and sardonic.

The guards continued to drag him onwards, passing cell after cell. John's bare feet had already suffered badly from the long trek and it would seem that they wanted to punish him further by taking him to the farthest cell. He stumbled one or two times when painful spasms shot up his leg. Each time he faltered, he was roughly pulled up by his collar, which cruelly dug into his neck.

Dizziness washed over him at one stage as the collar threaten to cut off his air supply, and over the din that roared in his ears, John thought he heard his name being called out. In vain, he tried to turn towards the sound, but he was abruptly yanked in the direction of a vacant cell, right at the end of the row.

Before John knew it, he was roughly pushed inside. He lost his balance and fell to the floor as the clang of the metal door being closed behind him, echoed loudly in his ears. Pain and fatigue kept him motionless for a while as he attempted to regain some strength. Eventually, he found the willpower to sit up and rub his sore and aching muscles. As his feet were covered in blisters and bleeding in places, John opted to crawl to the barred partition.

Although they had removed the heavy chain from his neck collar, the thing still dug cruelly into his neck when he strained to see beyond the cell. However, from his prospective at the end of the row, John could only see the two cells directly opposite his. Both where occupied by men, but John noted that neither wore the dreaded metal collar. _I must have made quite an impression_, he thought wearily. With nothing more to see, John sighed and settled down to lean back against the bars to wait for whatever came next. One thing for sure, it probably wasn't going to be a bed of roses and a very bad feeling crept into his bones.

John allowed himself to doze for the next hour or so, as nothing seemed to be happening. Then a sudden rattle of keys alerted him and brought him quickly to his senses. He looked up as the man he remembered as Tarmas entered his holding pen. Under the protection of several armed guards, Tarmas told John to stand up before cautiously moving over to him and removing the neck collar.

"If you behave yourself, slave, it will remain off," Tarmas advised before quickly departing.

"I am not a slave!" John shouted after him.

Rubbing his neck to ease the discomfort left by the collar, John was at least thankful for that small mercy. He liked to think that they had just made a huge mistake. Although, he still had no idea how he could escape from this situation. A sudden memory flashed through his mind. A memory of another time, of another escape plan with someone that seemed very different indeed, but before he could grab hold of the vision, it vanished, leaving him both frustrated and depressed.

John's depression increased when not long after the collar had been removed, people started to trail by his cell and gape at him as if he was some exhibit in a zoo. He decided to stay calm while he stared defiantly back at them.

However, when one particularly large and ugly man stood longer than necessary, John lost his cool and shouted. "As soon as I get out of here, I'm reporting you and your buddies to the human rights people. You hear me!" The man gave John an incensed look as if he was an idiot before walking away.

As more people came to gawk to him, John grew increasingly more confused by their remarks. Comments like, he looks like a troublemaker, too scrawny looking, odd hair, not much use to us, not worth anything, good-looking but too bad about the attitude. The observations went on and on until the prospective buyers grew thin on the ground.

John sighed and went to turn away when he thought he'd seen the last of them. However, a middle-aged couple suddenly stopped before his cell to give him a look of compassion. The woman suddenly spoke directly to him, the first person to have done so. "Please do not act so rebellious. If no one buys you, you will be sent away and used as Wraith bait."

Perplexed, John turned to look at her. "Wraith bait?"

"Yes." When John continued to look baffled, she said. "Do not tell me that you have never heard of the Wraith?

"No, I haven't. Look, I don't know what the heck is going on here but I'm Major John Sheppard of the United States Air Force. Can you please tell me which country this is and how I can contact the authorities or the US Consulate or anyone willing to help me?"

It was the woman's turn to look very confused. However before she could say anything, Tarmas came over and shouted. "Why are you two here? You do not intend to buy a slave so get out!"

The woman's companion spoke up for the first time. "That is no way to speak to us. How do you know we do not intend to buy today?"

"Because you never have and never will. I know what your game is. You come here and think you can save all these worthless pieces of human filth. Well, you are wrong. This trade has been going on for years because your people need slave labour and are willing to pay a good price for them."

The woman hung her head in shame. "That is true of some, but one day we and others like us hope to put a stop to it. These people were taken against their free will. Stolen from their homes and families, all because you and others like Marco Pollack are willing to deal in such a despicable trade." She stopped to take a breath. "For instance, where did you get this poor man from?"

Sheppard turned towards Tarmas, hoping to catch his answer, but all the man did was laugh. "Unfortunately, lady, this particular piece of filth has proven more trouble than he is worth. Despite being good to look at, no one has shown any interest in him, so it looks like he will be heading for the Wraith feeding grounds. A total waste of good money if you ask me." Tarmas muttered darkly before walking away to talk to some of his guards.

The couple looked anxious and murmured. "We are so sorry for you John Sheppard but there is nothing we can do for you and we must leave now."

John wanted to stop them and ask more questions but they quickly disappeared leaving him even more bewildered.

-SGA-

Over the following hour or so, the guards systematically removed people from their cells, a group at a time, until it was John's turn along with the last five prospective slaves.

They were lead into a large circular arena with raised tiered seating, four rows deep. Most of the seats were occupied with the same fair-skinned people that John had seen before. Apart from the spectators, buyers or whatever, several well-dressed men sat along a narrow wooden table placed near a small centre stage. _Overseers or auctioneers, maybe?_ John wondered.

As there were still quite a lot of people ahead of him to be sold, John was forced to stand along one wall while a guard kept his weapon trained on him. Ever defiant, John ignored the guard as he quietly stood watching with utter revulsion as people were auctioned off, one by one.

In his opinion, the whole thing stank to high heaven and he couldn't believe that something like this went unnoticed by the authorities. Not in this day and age of high tech communication and spy satellites. He felt as if he was living through some kind of weird nightmare and he desperately hoped that he would eventually wake up from it.

At one point, he observed as a small group of men were ushered out of a side door to stand not far from his position. One of the men suddenly turned towards him and his face broke out with a sheer look of delight before he shouted. "Sheppard! Oh, thank god! When are you going to get us out of this?"

John stared at the man, perplexed as to why he should know him. He wanted to move towards the stranger but his guard poked him hard with his weapon. Not wanting any trouble, John turned away.

Dr. Rodney McKay couldn't believe that the colonel had just done that. _What the hell was wrong with him?_ He tried shouting again, but Sheppard blatantly ignored him as if he was a total stranger. Rodney's blood ran cold. _What if they'd done something to Sheppard?_ The memory of their capture was still very fresh on his mind.

_It was supposed have been a routine mission but like so often was the case; things went down hill very fast. One moment the team had been walking through some woods minding their business on the way to look at some interesting ruins on MX5 879 and the next thing they knew, they were being attacked by a dozen or so rough looking men who popped up out of nowhere. The fight that followed had been fierce. Sheppard had taken out several of the ruffians before he'd been seemingly overwhelmed. Rodney had given it his best but had been quickly overcome and captured. Although, he had the distinct impression that at least Ronon and maybe Teyla had managed to get away. The last thing Rodney remembered, he was being pinned down by four burly men. He recalled seeing Sheppard still trying to fight his way to freedom before his world had clouded over and oblivion had taken him. _

Over the next days or weeks, Rodney had been kept in a cramped little cell with no contact to anyone, but his guards. He had protested and had even demanded to be released. When that was ignored, Rodney had enquired after his team but no one had given him any information. And until today, he'd had no idea if anyone had survived with him.

Now he'd found Sheppard and the man wasn't reacting to his pleas. In a few minutes, Rodney knew he would be sold to the highest bidder and he had a feeling that that was Sheppard's fate too. With one last attempt to contact his team leader and friend, Rodney did something that he'd never done before --- he used the colonel's first name. Shouting as loudly as he could, he screamed. "John! For goodness sake it's me Rodney!" He was rewarded with a hefty slap from his guard.

John quickly turned as his Christian name was yelled out. He saw the man he'd seen before being brutally struck and then suddenly, like a flash, his memory returned. "McKay?!" he shouted.

Without a second thought, John shoved his guard aside and rushed over to knock Rodney's attacker away with his shackled hands. Then reaching down, he awkwardly helped Rodney to his feet, asking. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine. What was wrong with you?"

John looked at his friend. "I couldn't remember anything until a few minutes ago. How the hell did we get here?"

"We were ambushed---," But Rodney didn't get the chance to say anymore, as John was roughly dragged away from him. However, Sheppard wasn't having any of it. Turning around, he lashed out at the nearest guard with his chain, knocking the man off his feet before charging the next guard head-on and bowling him over.

More guards joined the fray, but John was in a fighting frenzy, knocking them left, right and centre as quickly as he could until finally, he was overpowered by sheer numbers.

-SGA-

Unbeknown to Sheppard, up in the tiered seating right at the very front sat the communities most feared and powerful man. He observed with great interest as events unfolded below him. Although, he had dismissed the slim man as uninteresting and crazy during the viewing period, it looked like he had been mistaken.

A sickly smile spread across his fat and ugly face as he continued to observe the prospective slave and his spirited fighting abilities. A smile born of the knowledge that an entertaining and interesting period was about to begin. Although, he had already purchased his quota of slaves, he would buy that man and take the greatest of pleasure in breaking him, bit by bit, until there was no fighting spirit left in his bones.

Further up, near the centre of the seating, the couple that John had spoken to earlier also observe the fight below. They watched as John Sheppard had shown concern for the shorter man whom they had already pinpointed as being extremely intelligent during the viewings. These two men were certainly very different from the usual souls that ended up here, and now the couple realised that they were connected somehow, friends or colleagues maybe?

The trouble was they only had a certain amount of funds to spend at each sale. The group they belonged to collected donations between the slave sales and then, when an auction took place, the members took it in turns to buy as many people's freedom as they could afford.

This was the first time that Jonah and Majel Sogan had even sat in the bidding zone and the decision on who to buy had been a difficult one. They had already decided to buy the intelligent man his freedom before they had even seen John. Now they prayed that their funds would stretch enough to purchase him too.

tbc

Thanks for the reviews. Please keep them coming.


	3. Chapter 3

The Price of Freedom – Part 3

John's head throbbed from the beating he'd just taken as several guards pinned him against the wall in an attempt to keep him under control. He watched with despair as McKay was dragged onto the wooden staging and secured by his wrists to a metal post. McKay was protesting loudly in his usual babbling fashion but suddenly, he went very quiet when something John couldn't hear was said to him. John could only assume that it was a threat of death because that was usually the only thing that shut Rodney up so quickly.

Rodney remained silent and somewhat subdued, as the bidding got underway. Several bids where placed but they were quite low as there didn't seem to be that much interest in him. However, John was thankful that at least someone would buy Rodney and he wouldn't end up as Wraith fodder. Another, slightly higher, bid came from the centre tier and John realised that the couple who had spoken to him earlier were bidding for McKay. The price they quoted seemed to dispel any other offers and before John knew it, Rodney had been sold to the couple. Somehow, this gratified him as he had the feeling that the couple wouldn't do Rodney any harm. The last John saw of him was when Rodney was escorted out of the arena. Presumably back to the holding area.

He remained closely guarded while several other people where sold before him. Then finally, John was told to move and the guards stuck close as they matched him towards the staging. John's head still swam from the effects of the fight as they secured him firmly to the pole, but he turned to face his buyers with his usual defiance and pride. A murmur of disquiet passed through some of the bidders, and some even booed and hissed at him.

From his position on the staging, Tarmas cringed when his boss threw him a dirty look before he stepped forward to start the proceedings. "Good people of Tandara who will start the bidding on this fine piece of merchandise?" he asked, with a flourish of his hand.

Sheppard couldn't stop himself and he called out. "Wait a minute! I am not a piece of merchandise! I'm a free---" But before he could say any more, his guard gave him a hefty slap across the face to silence him. Pain ripped through his jaw and he tasted blood, but his bound hands prevented him from checking the injury, so he ignored it and kept his head held high.

Rodney's buyers winced as they watched blood trickle down John's chin from his split lip. However, they were secretly pleased because his insolence would only help their cause. No one would want to buy such an unruly and defiant slave. No one that is, except maybe one man.

Tarmas threw the guards an angry look, as much to say, For goodness sake keep him under control,' before he spoke again. Clearing his throat, he continued with a little chuckle. "Err … as you can see, he is a little on the feisty side but I am sure he can be controlled with the right handling."

Several grunts and even laughs passed through the buyers before Tarmas called for the bidding to commence. The silence that followed was disheartening for those who intended to make a profit and Tarmas cringed again as his boss's face looked livid with anger. Then when it looked like a hopeless case, a meek voice called out, "10 gold pieces," from the middle tier.

Tarmas groaned at such a measly sum but if no one else offered more, then he would have to sell the troublemaker to the bidder. His boss was going to have him skinned for this and he began to wish he'd never taken the tall dark haired man that fateful day some weeks ago. It had only been an anonymous tip-off that had led him to that planet in the first place. He should have ignored it.

Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Come on good people, surely you can offer me more than that?"

The silence remained so Tarmas prepared to end the bidding. Then just as everyone thought it was over, a loud, "20," boomed from the first row. People turned and gaped towards the new bidder. They all knew him well.

Majel couldn't look and she felt tears well up in her eyes. This was what she had been afraid of, as the callous brute known as Gallus Karakus had just put in a bid. She turned to look at her husband with great sadness; she saw it reflected in his eyes. After paying for McKay, they would only have 50 gold pieces left, so unless Karakus quickly lost interest, there was nothing they could do to save John Sheppard from being sold to the most heartless, barbaric man in the capital. His reputation was spread far and wide, and it was common knowledge that he used his slaves for all kinds of dirty work from digging in his gold mine, to being used as sex objects.

However, Majel wasn't going to give up that easily, so she clearly called out, "30!"

A disquieting laugh echoed from the front row, and people held their breath. "40!" The harsh voice replied.

"50!"

"60!" growled Karakus .

Majel lowered her head. She felt like crying just as Jonah shouted. "70!"

Shocked by his bid, Majel turned to her husband. "Where will we get the money?"

"We will raise it somehow," he whispered. Nevertheless, Jonah's gesture had been in vain when a loud, "80!" boomed from the front row.

That was it. It was all over because there was no way they could raise that kind of money. The silence remained deadly throughout the arena as everyone waited to see if they would bid more, but Jonah shook his head in defeat and John Sheppard was sold to Gallus Karakus.

The tears Majel had been holding back began to roll down her cheeks when she watched the proud man being dragged away under heavily armed guard. Even though she hardly knew him, Majel had a feeling that John Sheppard would rather die than become a lifeless drudge to a man like Karakus.

She remained thoughtful long after Sheppard had gone until Jonah quickly grabbed her arm. "Come on, we must go and pay for our acquisition before Tarmas or his boss try to stop us."

Majel nodded and hastily moved off behind her husband.

-SGA-

McKay didn't stopped asking questions from the moment they were far enough from the arena, but the couple stubbornly reminded silent. This irked Rodney somewhat, especially as they seemed to be depression and sad about something. Naturally, he wanted to know why.

Then much to Rodney's relief, they eventually entered a modest looking wooden house with a well-kept garden. The couple took him straight into a simply furnished living room and Rodney was extremely grateful when they offered him a chair to sit on. Although, the minute he lowered himself into the soft cushions, the questions started up again.

"Okay. Now, I'm going to ask you this one last time, what happen to Sheppard? You know the tall rakish man, the one who tried to stop the guards from hitting me."

Majel handed Rodney a glass of water, which he gratefully accepted, before answering him. "We know who you mean, Mister---?"

"It's McKay. Dr. Rodney McKay and he's Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Now will you kindly answer my question?" Rodney fired off.

Majel whispered, "He told us his name in the viewing pens," before husband and wife exchanged a sombre look. "We are truly sorry, Dr. McKay. We tried to buy him but we were outbid by the town's most rich and powerful man. I am afraid there was nothing we could do and John Sheppard is now the property of Gallus Karakus."

Rodney blinked several times in disbelief. "That doesn't sound good, and now I'm your slave, right?"

"Oh no, no we do not own slaves." Jonah announced with a look of revulsion. "We are part of a small group that is attempting to abolish slavery. We are not practically powerful at the present time. Nevertheless, one day we hope that all the citizens will see the errors of their ways and free the slaves." He stopped for a second to allow that information to sink in. "Now as soon as you have rested and had a good meal, you are free to go or stay with us. If you decide to go, we would suggest that you get as far away from this town as possible and try to start a new life. If you do not leave this area and are seen without us, you risk being hunted down as an escaped slave."

Rodney looked astounded. "I beg your pardon? Start a new life. I don't think so. I was happy with the one I had before being rudely nabbed on MX5 879 and I intend going back to it after I've recovered Sheppard."

"Those are very brave words, Doctor, but unfortunately it will not be possible to rescue your companion or get back to your home on this MX … whatever. The ring is too well guarded by the slavers and no one but approved citizens, are allowed to use it."

Rodney felt his heart sink. That could explain why they hadn't been rescued these past few weeks. Assuming that either Ronon or Teyla had made it safely back to Atlantis. Nevertheless, if they knew the gate location, then they really should have been rescued by now.

_Oh god, they were really screwed this time_. Rodney concluded. Of course, it was all Sheppard's fault, again. The man attracted trouble like a magnet but regardless, Rodney was very worried about him, even if his next words didn't seem so. "Although Sheppard doesn't deserve it, are you trying to tell me I can't help him?"

Majel looked at Rodney with an odd expression before moving over to a small cupboard and pulling out a crude looking picture of some huge and ugly fortress. "I do not know why your companion does not deserve to be rescued but this is where Karakus lives." She handed Rodney the picture. "No one has ever escaped from its walls and no one gets in without being invited. I am so sorry but John Sheppard is doomed to a life of servitude or worse if he does not give in to his master's demands."

Rodney froze and swallowed hard, thinking. _Sheppard give in. Hell would probably freeze over before_ _that happened_.

-SGA-

John was tired of the same old routine of waking up and finding himself in some crappy situation. This time however, he could clearly recall exactly how he'd arrived in this dismal, damp and smelly place. Of course, he couldn't keep his mouth shut when he'd been forcibly introduced to his owner and told to knee before him. John had told the callous man exactly where he could go and had demanded to be released immediately.

The battle of wills that had followed had been very interesting indeed, but John had been hopelessly outnumbered by Karakus's willing drudges who had forced him to his knees with their brute strength. However, the desired, "Sorry Master," never spilt from his lips and the last thing John remembered was the beating he'd received from three of the larger guards. So now, he had bruises on bruises and painful abrasions, once again.

Gingerly lifting his throbbing head off the floor, he looked around and took in his new surroundings. _Nothing new here_, he thought. Once again, he was in a small-stonewalled cell furnished with nothing other than an uncomfortable looking bed and a dreaded bucket. The only light came from two tiny barred windows set high up on one wall. They were so small that even a child would have had difficulty climbing through them.

With a pain-filled moan, John attempted to get up off the floor. When he made it, the room swam alarmingly for a few seconds but he managed to stagger as far as the bed before collapsing boneless across its paper-thin mattress. The boards underneath creaked loudly, threatening to break. _Nice going John,_ he thought when his nasals were assaulted by the pungent smell of urine and sweat. Just for once, he should have tried co-operating and then maybe they would have given him some better accommodation.

Yet John knew that was impossible, he was just too darn stubborn when he thought things were unjust. There was no way in hell he would bow and scrape to the grotesque man. No indeed, life was going to be very difficult in the near future.

After painfully shifting onto his side, John managed to curl up and face the wall. He stared at the solid grey stone and prayed that McKay was fairing better than he was and could at least mount some form of rescue. _Sooner rather than later would be nice, _John thought as he drifted asleep because his bad feeling had just grown out of all portion.

Tbc


	4. Chapter 4

The Price of Freedom – Part 4

Rodney McKay couldn't believe what he'd just agreed to do all in the name of trying to help one wayward colonel and, of course, getting himself off this poor excuse of a planet. He'd actually agreed to act as the couple's slave, which meant whenever they were out in public he had to be lowly and do as he was told. An impossible task at the best of times. They in turn had agreed to help him gather Intel and talk to the others of their group about a possible journey through the Stargate.

The couple had gone to great lengths to explain, what was in Rodney's humble opinion, the terrible social structure that made up this pathetic world. It was a society formed out of the lazy notion that menial work like trending the fields, cleaning the house, washing clothes, cooking, building and many other similar tasks should be done by lesser beings. Hence the need for slaves. It smacked a little of a weird version of the Roman Empire, without all the conquering and set in a pre-technological society circa 1800.

Then there was the question of the Wraith. Tandara's solution reminded Rodney so much of the callous Olesian people with their penal system of sacrificing prisoners. Only this time, it wasn't prisoners but unwanted or unruly slaves who were left to die on the feeding grounds. According to Jonah, the system had been in place for a long time, and the Wraith seemed to be satisfied with the arrangement and had left them in peace.

Rodney had cringed at the thought of the feeding grounds, which weren't all that near to the town but still too close for comfort. Then there was the question of Sheppard who no doubt would quickly become an uncontrollable slave.

Thoughts of Sheppard having to face the Wraith again left McKay feeling physically sick as he began to nose around the house. Rodney groaned when he looked at the well placed oil lamps and realised that they weren't even in the electricity stage yet. Meaning, he had absolutely nothing to work with.

That would explain everything and it was all beginning to make sense now as Jonah and Majel had had no concept of Rodney's occupation when he had told them exactly what he did after they had mistakenly believed him to be a doctor of medicine. He had actually seen confusion and then real disappointment in their eyes.

Somebody should have warned McKay before coming out to the Pegasus galaxy, as Rodney had had the illusion that any societies that they encountered would be at least equal to Earth's if not more advanced.

"What's the use of diplomas and degrees when faced with a society like this?" he muttered before moving towards the staircase with the intent of investigating upstairs.

"I beg your pardon, Dr. McKay?" Majel asked him as she descended the wooden stairs carrying a simple candle for light.

Rodney had the grace to look slightly embarrassed as he shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, just thinking aloud. Don't mind me. You wanted something?"

"Yes, just to tell you that I have made up a room for you and that this is our usual time to retire for the night."

Rodney would have looked at his watch if he still had it. Instead, he settled for a short nod. "Lead the way."

Majel remained silent as she led him into a small but tidy bedroom furnished with an extremely comfortable looking bed, a small dresser with a chair, water jug and washing bowl, and heavens forbid what looked like a chamber pot. Rodney hadn't even thought about the toilet since he hadn't needed one yet. A vision of a little outdoor hut with a heart craved into the door came to mind. They were even more primitive than he thought.

Majel followed his eyes when they settled on the chamber pot and she smiled for the first time. "Oh, that is just for decoration. The bathroom is over the landing on the right."

McKay let out of sigh of relief before bidding her goodnight.

-SGA-

Bone chilling cold pulled Sheppard from his restless sleep. He thought he heard scraping noises not far from his cot but the darkness was impenetrable. Visions of giant rats or large bugs came to mind. He shivered as he pulled the meagre blanket closer to his head and stared into the dark. "Stop acting like some frightened kid," he chastised himself aloud. Anymore of this and he was in danger of losing his mind.

John had already lost count of how long he'd been here. Some terrible tasting gruel and insipid water had been pushed through a small gap at regular intervals but apart from that, he'd had no contact to anyone since his arrival. At first, he'd tried to eat the gruel but it came back almost the minute it hit his stomach. Since then, the smell alone made him gag.

He wasn't sleeping well and his aches and pains had worsened due to the positively unsanitary conditions of his imprisonment. During the lighter periods, which were short at the best, he'd investigated every nook and cranny of his prison but it was solid built and totally secure. So unless things changed soon, he was truly in danger of dying from starvation or illness, which didn't explain why Karakus had paid good money for him only to leave him to rot?

-SGA-

Gallus Karakus liked to think he was a benevolent owner. Of course, if he listened to his slaves that illusion would have been squashed in a matter of seconds. Lying comfortably on his massive and plush bed, he stretched his overweight frame as his slaves rushed around to serve him his morning repast of plentiful fruits and pastries.

Licking his fingers after a particularly tasty morsel, he decided that it was time he introduced his new acquisition to life as a slave. He hated waste and he had paid good money for the stubborn fool. Although, if the stupid man wasn't more amenable after his stint in the dungeon, then he would quickly find himself back there.

Summoning his guards, he ordered them to bring the new slave to his reception room after they had washed him and made him more presentable.

-SGA-

John sat listless, almost too fragile to stay upright. His hunger was so strong now that he even contemplated trying to kill the collection of rat like creatures that congregated around the latest offering of mushy slops. They seemed to find it appetising enough but the very sight of it was making John's stomach turn. Not that he had anything in his stomach to bring back up.

His weight was dropping fast from his slim frame and if they didn't provide him with a decent meal soon, he'd look like one of the poor souls liberated during the Bosnian War. It also left him feeling as weak as a kitten. That was the one thing John hated the most because it made him feel extremely vulnerable.

His life was definitely at an all time low and he wondered if it could possibly get any worse. Of course, just as he thought that, he heard the distinctive turn of the lock as the door was opened for first time since he'd been thrown in here. Lethargically lifting his head, John saw two large guards walk over to stand before him.

They didn't give John a chance to move as they grabbed him by his neck collar and pulled him out of the cell. He gave no resistance as the guards continued to drag him along several dark corridors and up a flight of stone stairs into a washroom of sorts.

The unexpected exercise left Sheppard standing on rubbery legs and he swayed precariously as one of the guards pushed him roughly into a stall with what looked like a primitive showerhead up in the ceiling.

"You sink," The guard commented, "Wash yourself before you are taken before your Master."

John tried to regain his balance but ended up slumped against the stall's rough brick wall. He righted himself with some difficulty and glared at the man. "How did you expect me to keep clean in those unsanitary conditions?"

"Watch your mouth, slave, or you will find yourself back there." The guard murmured, dangerously. Then unexpectedly, the man softened his attitude. "Look, if you want to survive and eat proper food, just do as you are told. Otherwise, things will get very nasty indeed. The Master does not tolerate disobedience."

With those words, he left John to remove his dirty clothing, but at least this time he was being allowed to wash himself.

The link chain had been moved before John had been thrown into the dungeon, but the heavy metal manacles remained along with the neck collar giving John a constant reminder of his situation. He figured he had a choice, either co-operate and get some food and maybe some better living quarters or stay obstinate and end up back in the dungeon. It was a real dilemma and he couldn't make up his mind about it. On one hand, he desperately needed something inside him. Nevertheless, to bow and scrape to someone like Karakus was something that he just couldn't do without losing face and his stubborn pride. So, as he attempted to scrub his sore and bruised body with shaky hands, he decided to see how the situation panned out.

A while later, freshly clothed and smelling slightly more human, John was dragged to stand before his master. He felt a morsel of strength return at the sight of the man and he attempted to stand straight and proud. If only his knees would stop shaking from hunger and he didn't faint, then he could stand up to the awful man sitting on his throne like some almighty king surrounded by his humble slaves. Karakus certainly presented a picture of callous arrogance while surrounded by brash décor and glittery bad taste.

Of course, it got off to a bad start from the word go. Once again, John was ordered to kneel and he stubbornly made no effort to comply. Then his body decided to betray him when John suddenly felt extremely light-headed and he went crashing to his knees without his willingness. Strangely, this action seemed to satisfy Karakus who took the event as a submission. Little did he know?

Karakus looked down his nose at John with an absolute air of contempt before saying. "I knew a few turns in the dungeon would make you a more willing subject. Now we must decided what you are good at and into which area you can best be put to work. If you satisfy me, you will receive regular meals and a clean bed to sleep in."

John looked up but made no comment as Karakus began to rub his podgy cheeks. "You are a little on the skinny side, but I suppose you are not bad to look at under that unruly hair and stubble. We will have to see about removing that."

John froze, wondering what the man had in mind. His stubbly beard could go but not his hair. A sudden silly thought rushed into his mind. _What if they shaved off his hair and then he and Rodney were rescued. McKay_ _would have a field day._ It didn't bear thinking about. _But wasn't he being a little vain?_ He really had far more important things to worry about right now then whether his hair remained the same. Nevertheless, it was his hair and no way were they touching that. He loved his hair the way it was. Although at the moment without his hair gel and a decent shampoo, it was rather on the floppy side and dull looking.

Thank goodness, Karakus squashed John's fears with his next sentence, "Although, we hardly need to worry about what you look like when you are digging in my gold mine."

It took a second or two for John's starved mind to register the words. Hunger could do that. Maybe his hair was safe but it didn't look like the rest of his body would not come off so lightly. John didn't want to beg to the repulsive man but the gold mine didn't sound like a good option. Not at all, so he said. "I'm good at repairs. You name it, I can fix it." John cringed, realising how pathetic that sounded.

The words didn't seem to motivate Karakus into a decision. He looked down at John while resting his hand on his double chin. "Ummm … what was your occupation before you were brought into my glorious service?"

John frowned and looked at him seriously. The man had to be kidding. There was no way John would tell this pumped up idiot his true status, but his stomach chose that particular moment to growl very loudly as if begging him not to rebel. However, John couldn't resist. "I was a free man."

"Well you are not free now!" Karakus shouted. "And if you know what is good for you, you will work hard for me! Is that understood?"

John narrowed his eyes. "I was a free man but I need to eat, so while I'm your … guest, I'll work for my dinner."

"My guest?" Karakus spluttered, making his jowls quiver. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"A free man." John repeated, knowing that he'd probably just forfeited his dinner and maybe even his life.

However, surprisingly, Karakus merely grunted. "We will see how free you are after you have been here for a while. Now I am warning you, slave, anymore of this insolence and you will be punished and given the worst possible job that I can find." Then without another word, Karakus flicked his hand and ordered the guards to take John from his presence.

-SGA-

Still feeling somewhat light-headed, John staggered between the two guards as they led him down yet more long passageways that all looked alike with plain grey stonewalls and extremely small windows. After what felt like a marathon to Sheppard, they finally arrived in what was obviously the slave living quarters. The accommodation wasn't much to look at with its narrow beds spaced closely together and the predicable cold looking grey walls but it was like the Hilton compared to the dungeon. In the middle of the room sat a long wooden table with fifteen or so chairs placed around it. Several other rooms seemed to lead off from this one but the guards dumped John on a bed furthest from the main door.

The guard who had spoken to John earlier pulled up a chair and sat down to face him. "Take my advice, slave. Do not cross the Master ever again. You are lucky that he did not have you thrown back in the dungeon for your insolence." The man stopped to turn and point to one of the doorways. "Through there is the cooking room. If you go now, Sirena will give you some bread and water until it is mealtime. The Master has yet to assign work for you, but believe me he will do so in the next day or two, so eat and get your strength back. If you are heading for the mine you will certainly need it."

The guard quickly stood and pushed the chair back. However, before departing, he warned John. "This is your new home now, slave, so get used to it. Oh, and if you think you can escape, then think again. There is no way out of this fortress. All exits are guarded both day and night. The windows are barred, the doors are locked and the walls are built of solid stone. The penalty for even trying to escape is death." The man suddenly bent down to face John, looking him straight in the eye. "I know your type, they never give up. But let me tell you this, every last one of them has ended up in an unmarked grave." With that, the man grunted and left.

John watched him go with a defiant scowl before carefully easing himself up and heading for the indicated room. It turned out to be a largish kitchen with an open cooking range. A woman stood before the stove preparing vegetables and throwing them into a large black pot. It was difficult to tell how old she was from the back, but once she turned to face John, it was obvious that she was at least sixty years or so.

She stood scrutinising him for a few seconds. "My goodness, sit down before you fall down, son," she advised, pointing a wooden stool placed off to one side. John moved over to it and gratefully lowered himself as the woman turned back to her work. "I will be with you in a minute. I just have to finish this."

The smell of the food was making John feel dizzy and he wondered just how long he could continue to stay upright. Thankfully, the woman quickly finished and pressed a chunk of bread into his hand. "Nibble on that for a minute while I make you some broth."

John did as suggested, although the bread stuck in his throat. "Could I have some water please?" he requested.

"Oh, yes, of course. How silly of me, I am sorry," she apologized, quickly giving him a glass of water before turning back to the stove. "What is your name, son?"

"John."

"That is a nice name. I will not say welcome because I am sure you do not want to be here anymore than the rest of us. By the way, my name is Sirena."

John gratefully took a sip of the water. It washed the bread down, which made him feel a little better. Putting the class aside for a minute, he looked up at the woman and noted her haggard but friendly face. "The guard already told me," he murmured. "Have you been a slave for long?"

She turned and looked at John sadly. "Nearly all my life."

John swallowed hard. He could never imagine a life of servitude under a man like Karakus. "Have you always served that slime pot of a man?"

Sirena threw an anxious glance towards the door before turning back to him. "Be careful what you say, people have lost their lives or a limb for saying less. However, to answer your question, I was once in the service of a kinder couple but after they died, their awful cousin sold me to Karakus. Alas, I have been in his service ever since. That has been for many years now. I have kept my peace, done my work and I live, but I long to see the world beyond this prison just one more time before I die."

John could very well understand that. "I hope you do, Sirena," he whispered.

She gave him a huge smile before quickly turning back to the stove. "Now let's get some food inside that slim frame of yours, son. I have a feeling you are going to need all the strength you can find."

John nodded and he realised that at least he had found one ally amongst the foe.

tbc

_Thanks for all your reviews!_


	5. Chapter 5

The Price of Freedom – Part 5

Rodney McKay squatted at the top of a bush and shrub covered embankment holding a pair of very primitive binoculars to his eyes. "You've got to be kidding," he spluttered.

"I am afraid not, Dr. McKay." His tall wiry companion commented from his position by Rodney's side.

"But there must be at least six or more men just guarding the gate."

The man nodded even though Rodney couldn't see his answer. "Like Majel keeps reminding you, the fortress is impenetrable. No one gets out or in without Karakus's soul permission."

"And what about that wooded area over there." Rodney asked, pointing to a densely tree lined and rocky ridge no more than about 2 kilometres away from the fortress before turning to his companion.

Prior to answering, Rodney's guide pushed up his glasses in much the same way that Radek often did making Rodney suddenly feel terribly homesick. "That is Karakus's dreaded hunting grounds. He goes there nearly every week to hunt the harmless Teekie or any other poor creature that he can get in his sights, just for the fun of it."

Rodney pulled a face. He hated hunting at the best of times. Then turning his attention back to the fortress, Rodney panned the binoculars over the vast and menacing façade of the distant foreboding and ugly building. It reminded him of pictures he'd seen of Second World War bunkers. It was just a huge square block of solid grey stone with the tiniest of windows. Surrounding the central building was a high wall, also made of grey stone, with what looked like glass shards topping it as something glistened in the sunlight.

Lowering the binoculars, Rodney sighed. "What's this Karakus afraid of? I mean, that place is better protected than---" He was just about to say Fort Knox when he realised that the man wouldn't know what he was talking about.

Rodney's companion didn't seem to notice the incomplete sentence as he replied. "Nobody really knows but anyone who has ever tried to cross him, be it citizen or slave, has ended up very dead. I have even seen corpses hanging from those walls to reminder us all of his power."

Turning to face his guide, Rodney swallowed hard and pointed a shaky finger, "Hung from that wall?" he squealed, not meaning to sound quite so terrified but it came out that way.

His guide simply nodded. "The man is ruthless, always has been even as a child. His father was not much better, although, he was a little less power hungry. Gallus inherited his father's wealth just over twenty years ago. Since then, his corruption and dealings with the slavers has gone from bad to worse. It is common knowledge that he greatly misuses his slaves, especially the poor unfortunate women. Luckily, the man has no heirs, as he has never found a woman who would marry him and give him children. Even the poor slaves have had no children by him, so it would seem that the man is incapable of fathering any." The guide paused for a minute to look around. "Now, I think it is wise that we leave this place before we are discovered."

"Yes, yes, of course," Rodney muttered before quickly scrambling away from the viewing vantage point. "So my best bet is still to try and get through the gate?"

The man looked at McKay sadly. "Even that holds some risks. I am truly sorry about your friend but if you do manage such a feat, I would strongly recommend that you stay away from this place forever."

Rodney didn't voice it but he thought, _And leave Sheppard behind, not likely._ His companion, Lomos Naabe, had been helpful in many ways since the Sogan's had introduced them but Rodney wasn't giving up. Somehow, he would get back to Atlantis and if necessary, bring an army to free Sheppard. The only trouble was such an action could easily cause Sheppard's death if it wasn't handled correctly.

-SGA-

Dr. Elizabeth Weir sat silently at her desk, her face weary and sorrowful. Weeks, it had been weeks since they had lost of John and Rodney. Weeks of useless searching, as day after day teams had come back empty handed after following up futile leads.

Caldwell was now firmly ensconced in John's chair at the request of General Landry and the SGC. Elizabeth hated it, and although he ran the military like clockwork, she greatly missed John's laidback and more easygoing style. Radek, bless him, was doing the best he could to keep Rodney's science department running but eventually, they would have to find someone to take over, as Radek had his own department to run.

Tomorrow, Elizabeth had arranged a special meeting to decide as to whether a full-scale search should continue or not. She knew Ronon would never give up and Teyla would probably join him. Elizabeth didn't want to give up either but pressure from Caldwell and Landry was increasing. They claimed that enough resources and manpower had already been deployed and it was time to downgrade the search or maybe even call it off altogether.

Elizabeth totally disagreed because how could you give up on two people as special and as dear to them as John and Rodney were. Not that other expedition members were less important but somehow, those two were the heart and soul of Atlantis. Together they had kept the city safe against all odds. They had overcome so much and saved so many lives, time after time. No, Elizabeth decided, they owed them too much to give up, at least not yet.

A tear or two appeared in her eyes and she reached down to grab a paper tissue to blow her nose. Then standing, Elizabeth sighed and wandered over to the balcony to look at down at the Stargate.

Silently, she said a little prayer and whispered. "Where are you boys? Please come home to us."

-SGA-

John reached down to clean out the primitive toilet pan in the guards' washroom. His stomach turned and he gagged at the stench that wafted up to assault his abused nose. Never in his life had he dreamt that he would have to clean out latrines for real. It had been threatened a few times during his illustrious military career but threats were one thing, actually having to do it was another. In addition, no matter how misused some of the communal facilities may have been back on Earth they were a palace compared to this.

He'd been assigned to latrine cleaning duties about a week ago after getting into a disagreement with one of the other slaves. For no apparent reason, the man had started to torment John almost from the first day. John had tried to put a stop to it but it only served to make matters worse as the slave continued to harass him and call him names whenever he could.

It had all come to a head one evening when the slave pinched some of John's bread, and although the other was heavier built and slightly taller, John had given him a bloody nose for that.

After the guards had parted them, the bully had only received a warning, whereas John had ended up being assigned to this filthy job after his normal work of digging out a foundation for a new building.

The guards certainly had it in for him, even though they had said that he'd been lucky, as they hadn't reported the incident to Karakus.

Once the toilets were as clean as John could get them, he trudged back towards the slave quarters for a wash and the evening meal that Sirena would have kept warm for him. His strength and health was slowly returning to normal thanks to Sirena's extra care and wholesome food. She had already become a good friend. Almost mothering him with her attention but she kept insisting that he was special.

Clean and feeling somewhat better after his evening meal, John prepared to settle down for night. He moved over to his bed and got a shock as the single woollen blanket was missing leaving only the grey holey sheets covering the narrow mattress. Someone must have taken the cover and unfortunately, it wasn't just a simple task of going to a cupboard to get a replacement. When he had been given the blanket, he'd been told to look after it, as it was the only one that he would get. If he lost it or damaged it, then that was just too bad because he wouldn't get another.

John sighed, as there was no way he could go without it, it was just too darn cold in the night. He glanced angrily at the other men sharing the room. Some were already asleep while others appeared to be dozing. So John moved silently amongst them until he spotted his cover draped over his adversary who was lightly snoring under the cosy looking mound made by the extra blanket.

A light kick to the foot brought the man awake. "What do you want?" he growled.

John glared at him and growled back. "As if you didn't already know. My blanket."

The other slaves began to stir. Some looked on with interest, while others showed real fear. Either way, they silently waited to see how the confrontation would pan out.

The thief lifted his head slightly. "Get lost, loser."

John kicked his foot again. "Not until I've got my blanket back."

"Then you're in for a long wait, skinny, 'cause I ain't giving it back."

Sheppard looked at the mound in frustration. He was bone tired and getting colder by the minute, nevertheless, there was no way he was going back to his bed without his cover. The others wouldn't help him for fear of reprisal, so he was on his own as usual.

John often wondered if this slave had been told to stir up trouble or if this man had known him from somewhere before. A Genii maybe? Whatever, it looked like he would have to fight to get his cover back, which probably meant getting into trouble, again.

As quick as lightening, John made a grab for his blanket but the man had anticipated his move and held on tightly. It didn't deter John from making another assault and this time, he managed to move the cover towards him. The slave yanked it back until it became a tug of war, which threatened to split the cover in two. As that was the last thing that John wanted, he made a fist and forcibly struck the slave across his nose hoping that he would loosen his grip.

Instead, the man rolled out of the bed and went for John still clutching the stolen blanket. John quickly sidestepped to avoid him and luckily, he managed to reclaim most of his cover as the bully tumbled by.

Unfortunately, his advantage didn't last long as the heavier man yanked the blanket back, pulling John with it. Once John was within range, the bully gave him a hefty punch in the arm in order to loosen his hold.

Gritting his teeth through the pain, John managed to keep hold of his precious cover and bring his fist around to knock the slave squarely in the face. There was a cracking sound and the man spat blood along with several teeth. The bully looked down in shock at his blood-covered hand and John took advantage of his distraction to reclaim the blanket and make for his bed.

However, the tormenter wasn't finished and once he regained his senses, he went after John like a ram. Head butting John firmly in the middle of his back, the bully knocked John down and rolled him over so that they were face to face. He then tried his hardest to throttle John to kingdom come but because of the collar, he couldn't get a good grip on John's neck and he left himself vulnerable to John's knee. That was all Sheppard needed, with all the power he could muster, he brought his knee up and squarely hit the mark. The slave screamed out in agony and quickly let go of him.

"That serves you right." John muttered before hastily grabbing his blanket and standing up. "Just leave me alone in future and nothing will happen." Dusting down his clothing, John gave the slave one last glare before heading for his bed.

It would have been nice if it could have ended there but the tormenter did not intend to let it. He sat scowling for a good five minutes while his pain died down, just waiting for Sheppard to settle.

The other slaves gave him pleading looks, although no one dared to say a word. This bully had been the ruler of the roost ever since his arrival about a year ago and things were becoming much clearer to the others slaves now. He must see Sheppard as a threat to his supremacy and would do almost anything to have him removed. That included making possible trouble for himself but the slave was in favour with the guards, so he took the risk.

Finally finding the strength to stand, the tormenter marched over to John and attempted to pull the cover off his bed. John had half expected such action from the thickheaded idiot, so he held on tightly. The next thing John knew, the bully attempted to yank the thin mattress from under him causing them both to tumble onto the floor.

What happened next was a free for all as the bully started pounding John with everything he had. John fought back as best he could. Rolling with the blows and giving them back whenever possible.

They crashed into furniture and shattered chinaware. The other slaves quickly scattered in the wake of their blows and a look of apprehension passed between them as they all knew that this was bound to end badly. And sure enough just as the bully got in another blow, the sound of shouting echoed around the room. The guards had arrived.

John and his adversary were quickly parted by several burly guards and pinned up against the wall.

"What the hell is going on here?" The head guard shouted.

John felt blood trickle down from his nose but he couldn't wipe it away because his hands were being held. Although, he was still breathless from the fight, he was determined to get in the first word. "I was only … trying … to reclaim my blanket after he stole it," he stated through gritted teeth.

"Were you now?" The guard sneered. From that moment on, John knew that he was screwed. The guard had already found him guilty.

The tormenter got in his word. "He knocked my front teeth out, the little bastard."

"Firstly, I am not a bastard," John stated, "and that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't of stolen my blanket."

The head guard swung around and shouted, "Shut up, slave!" before moving over to the bully to examine his mouth. "What a mess. That will cost you, slave. Take him to the dungeon and string him up for a while," he ordered the men restraining John. "The Master will hear of this incident and he will decide what to do with you."

As the guards prepared to manhandle John out of the room, Sirena came out of a side door and stepped in front of them. The noise had brought her and some of the other women out of their room. She had seen how the other slave had tormented John over the blanket.

"That's not fair, Halden, and you know it. Grison stole Sheppard's blanket and would not give it back. All of you witnessed it! Why do you stand by in silence?" she questioned the other male slaves.

They looked at each other with apprehension and fear. If they chose to speak up it could lead to trouble for them, so they remained silent.

Sirena felt tears form. John Sheppard was worth more than all these slaves put together as not one of them had the guts to defend him. "Cowards, every last one of you," she muttered in disgust, "but I saw what happened, so I'll tell the Master the truth."

John quickly turned towards her when he noticed the head guard Halden glaring at her with murder in his eyes. "Sirena, don't. It will only get you into trouble. I know you mean well but please stay out of it."

"Take his advice woman and you will live a few more years. After all, slaves who can cook are easy to find." With that threat, Halden signalled his men to take John away.

Tbc


	6. Chapter 6

The Price of Freedom - Part 6

If John had thought his time in the dungeon had been bad the last time, it had been a bed of roses compared to this, as stringing him up had meant just that.

John dangled above the dirty floor, suspended from his wrist manacles by two chains, which were firmly secured to the ceiling by strong metal hooks. His arms were painfully stretched above his head, and although he could just about reach the floor with the tips of his toes, if anyone kicked him or he lost his balance, he would swing free.

His shoulders ached incessantly at the strain of having to support most of his weight. A pulse of pain shot through his neck from time to time giving him no relief at all. It only helped to increase the size of his headache, which was mounting to severe migraine proportions. He daren't relax or lose his footing, as that would mean putting more strain on his already abused arms and shoulders.

His nosebleed hadn't been attended to and he could still taste blood on his lips indicating that the bleeding might not have stopped completely. Other bruises and minor cuts made their presence known with a growing ache but because his whole body hurt, he couldn't identify any specific area as being worse off than other.

John estimated that he'd been strung up for about an hour now and he began to wonder if they would leave him in this position all night. He didn't know whether he could stand that or not.

He allowed his thoughts to drift in and out for a while but during one of his more alert periods, John could vaguely hear scratching noises. He guessed that his rodent friends were back to greet him.

One of the creatures suddenly brushed against his foot and John instinctively moved. This caused a jolt of pain to shot through his neck and he felt himself blacking out.

Desperately, he tried to shake it off but the room began to spin before his eyes and his ears buzzed loudly as the blood rushed from his head. "No, no, no," he told himself firmly. "Stay awake!"

John's world continued to fade and just when he thought oblivion would claim him, he felt his arms flop as the tension was released. In his anguish, John hadn't even realised that anyone had entered the room. However, he was extremely grateful for their mercy because now the chains had been lengthened enough to allow him to stand without stretching.

With the strain taken off his arms, John was able to lower his head until he felt the dizziness begin to recede. He flexed his shoulder muscles and rolled his neck in the hope of easing the pain. It helped a little but the headache and discomfort remained.

Several minutes passed before he found the energy to lift his eyes but when he did, he blinked twice as he stared directly into a pair of cruel beady eyes.

"What am I going to do with you?" Karakus sneered from his position no more than a foot away.

If John could have found the strength, he would have tried to push the big ugly man over with his body. However, strength not withstanding, John abruptly realised that Karakus wasn't alone. Several guards, including the one called Halden, stood near his shackled body just waiting for him to make such a move.

The Master's sneer deepened as he inched his huge frame even closer to John. Without warning, he grabbed John's face and painfully squeezed his cheeks. "You have been nothing but trouble to me ever since the moment I bought you. I should have left you for the Wraith to feed on."

John knew that was a lie because he would have been bought by the other bidder if Karakus hadn't of intervened. However, he chose to remain silent. Not that he could say anything with the brute squeezing his mouth so tightly.

But Karakus wasn't finished. "My favoured slave is now missing several front teeth thanks to you. Maybe I should extract retribution by removing some of yours."

John shuddered inwardly, trying desperately not to portray any fear at the prospect, as that could just push Karakus into carrying out his threat.

However, unexpectedly, the brute suddenly let go of John's face. "But if I want to use you in the sex industry, then you need to stay reasonably decent looking." Another shudder passed through John as Karakus paused to ponder. "But you are not tame enough for the streets yet, are you? No doubt you would run the minute you had a chance."

Karakus paused again to let an exaggerated sigh pass through his slobbery lips. Lifting a podgy finger, he poked John forcibly in the stomach. "You are a skinny bastard but you have muscle. I think a turn in the gold mine will help curb your rebellious ways. If you behave, I will consider removing you before your health suffers too much. If not, then you will rot there for the rest of your very short and miserable life - slave."

John cleared his throat and spoke up for the first time. "I am not a slave, I'm a free man."

"My god you have guts, but let me tell you this - slave," Karakus drew out the word again to emphasize it, "If you say that just one more time, I will have you put in a cage and hung from the wall for all to see just how free you are. Is that understood?"

Again, John chose to remain silent, annoying Karakus even more as he stared him out. It was a match that John Sheppard won and in that moment, John knew that the man was weak and cowardly. Proven even more so, when in the next instant, Karakus lost his nerve and stormed away.

Before departing, he shouted to his guards. "Leave him there for the night and first thing tomorrow have him transferred to the mine! Without breakfast!"

The guards, "Yes, Master!" Were the last words John heard before the door was soundly shut, leaving him alone with his pain and the scurrying rodents. At least they had left the chains just about slack enough to allow him to lie down on the cold hard floor.

-SGA-

"What? You want me to wait another week?" McKay spluttered. Although, chronologically, a week on Tandara was slightly shorter than on Earth, but for McKay it was still far too long. "In another week Sheppard could be dead. We don't even know what they are doing to him right now while we sit on our asses and do nothing."

Majel threw Rodney a sympathetic look. "I know how hard it is for you, Doctor, but our people need more time to organise a way to get you through the great ring."

Rodney squeezed his eyes shut. How often had he heard that excuse? He had almost lost track of time as he no longer had a watch to calculate it by, but he reckoned that he'd been stuck on this planet for about five weeks now with seemingly no progress made at all. Even though Rodney had had several meetings with the antislavery group, they just didn't seem to possess any real stomach for reform. Therefore, it was no wonder that things hadn't changed much over the years.

Although no progress had been made towards McKay's return home, the meetings had provided him with quite an insight into the Tandarian society. Rodney found it extremely unbelievable that they had yet to form a true monetary system. The only form of coinage was the gold pieces that were exchanged for the slaves. Everyday goods were bartered for and they certainly didn't need to pay for workers when they had a plentiful supply of slave labour to do the menial tasks. However, a certain amount offworld trading was allowed, but only for a privileged few. Once again, barter was used for that.

It appeared that several influential families had total control over certain areas of the community such as policing. However, most powerful and prominent of all was Gallus Karakus. He alone controlled the drug and alcohol trade as well as prostitution, gambling and other such dark areas. Karakus also had soul procession of the gold producing mine, which was reputed to be hard labour with little reward. Nevertheless, Karakus somehow managed to extract every gold nugget using the blood and sweat of countless slaves.

There was also no form of democratic government as Karakus was the authority. In other words, he was the true dictator of the small population of ninety thousand or so citizens, and numerous slaves. Everyone Rodney had encountered had shown the greatest of fear for Karakus, which explained why no one seemed willing to stand up against him. Therefore, what Karakus wanted, Karakus got, and Rodney came to realise of just how brave Majel and her husband had been when they had tried to buy Sheppard at the auction. Consequently, his respect for them had grown immensely.

The couple had pointed out that many more people would stand up against Karakus if the slavers weren't so strong. The ruff and despicable band of offworlders were making a tidy fortune out of the misery of others and as long as people like Karakus continued to buy from them then the trade would flourish. It made Rodney sick to think about it but then again, Earth had had such times in history.

It had taken great leaders to put an end to it, but Rodney wasn't a great leader. He had a great brain, at least for science, although that wasn't helping him much in this situation. Rodney couldn't imagine having to stay on Tandara for the rest of his life as his superior intelligence was being greatly wasted on menial tasks such as washing dishes and making beds. Although, it was all in the pretence of being a slave to the kindly couple, and even though they didn't force him to work, he felt obliged to repay them somehow.

No, he desperately needed a way to get off this planet and the delay was killing him. Rodney suddenly felt like throwing a tantrum as his frustration boiled over. "I'm sorry, Majel, but that's just not good enough."

"What are you going to do? March right up to the ring and demand to be let through? That will not help John Sheppard, especially if you get yourself killed."

With a sinking feeling, Rodney knew that she was right, but the wait was getting on his nerves. Rodney counted to ten before turning to the kindly woman with a resigned expression. "All right one more week but please don't make it any longer."

"We will do our best," she promised him.

-SGA-

Elizabeth's eyes silently followed Ronon as he stormed out of the meeting. She couldn't blame him in the least because she felt like storming out herself, but dignity and protocol prevented such an action.

Caldwell was driving her mad with his imposing attitude. The way he was behaving anybody would think he was leader of the expedition and not her. The man was currently putting Major Lorne down after the officer had politely reminded the colonel that normal military solutions didn't apply in the Pegasus Galaxy and that the full-scale search for Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay should continue.

The colonel was quick to say missing in action was missing in action, no matter where it was and a reasonable amount of time had already been allocated for the search. End of matter, it was time to down grade it.

Elizabeth didn't normally have to raise her voice to be heard but he was making her blood boil. "Colonel! As expedition leader it is my call as to whether or not the search should be scaled down."

"That may be so, Dr. Weir, but as head of military it's my call as to how long service personnel can be utilised for what appears to be a useless endeavour. It's too much of a risk as the city's security is constantly being jeopardised by understaffing."

Elizabeth counted to ten before replying. "Firstly, the search has not been a useless endeavour and secondly, may I remind you that you are only acting head of military until Colonel Sheppard is recovered."

Steven Caldwell nodded briefly but refrained from making a comment. He did however restate his decision. "I have no jurisdiction over the civilian personnel, ma'am, but as far as I'm concerned, no more military personnel can be deployed to search for the two missing men. That includes you, Major Lorne."

Elizabeth was quick to speak up before Lorne could get himself into deep water with the colonel. "Regardless, we will not give up and I'm sure there are plenty of service personnel willing to continue the search in their downtime."

She half-expected Caldwell to protest but he took her by surprise with his reply. "What people do in their spare time is their own business but if it interferes with the normal working schedule, then I will put a stop to it."

Before Elizabeth could comment on that, Teyla spoke up. "I am sure my people will only be too willing to help, even more than they are now."

"They are already doing a lot of the searching, Teyla." Elizabeth reminded her.

"Yes, but there are still many planets and people that we can contact. We owe Dr. McKay and the Colonel a lot, and I know my people will not rest until they are found."

Elizabeth decided to end it there before Caldwell could say more on the matter. "Thank you, Teyla. That's settled then. We will continue the search using voluntary civilians, off-duty military personnel and the Athosians."

Caldwell nodded but he didn't look exactly delighted. Elizabeth inwardly sighed, longing for the day that John Sheppard returned to Atlantis.

-SGA-

"You miserable little worm!" the guard screeched before hitting John one more time for good measure. "The Master put you here to dig! Now dig!"

John looked up from his position on the dirty floor to pull a face at the brute towering over him. He had been digging but the poor kid next to him had suffered some kind of fit. John had only stepped in to help the boy. Of course, that had resulted in yet another confrontation with the guard, when the brute had pulled John into the centre of the aisle and had viciously struck him with his rod several times across the back. John was getting sick of it.

The kid was all right now, so John painfully crawled back to join him as they resumed the relentless task of digging out the jagged stones with nothing more than a crude pointed shovel made of rough iron.

The stone was brittle and crumbly, yet still hard enough to break nails and cut skin on its crystal sharp protrusions. Worst of all was the never-ending cloud of arid dust. It got into the hair, the clothing and into defenceless lungs causing a hacking cough. The older slaves, those who had survived more than a few months, were all suffering from some form of lung decease and an assortment of skin complaints in the form of boils, rashes and infected cuts.

John's hands were covered in sores and he'd only been here for about a week. The night he'd spent in the dungeon had left him weak and he really hadn't had time to recover before being forced to scour out the gold producing rock for hours on end.

He hadn't seen the light of day since arriving as they were kept in the mine even at night. John's clothing was already filthy and his skin was almost black beneath the sores and bruises from the clinging dust and dirt.

The sleeping area was dark, damp and grimy with narrow shelves carved roughly into the stone for beds. A thin mattress was provided to make the bed less hard and the inevitable single blanket given for warmth, which was very inadequate against the cold produced underground. The meals were poor and only provided upon waking and after the working day. Water was available at all times but it was dirty and probably carried untold diseases. Needless to say, life expectancy was extremely low.

A choking cough caught in John's throat and he swore silently as the shovel slipped yet again and his knuckles scrapped across the jagged rock. He hastily sucked on the graze while wishing for a cool glass of clean water and some of Beckett's good stuff to ease the pain, which had become a constant companion.

The kid called Seth stopped digging for a moment and looked up at him after making sure that the guard was occupied with someone else. "Please, the next time I get sick just leave me alone. If you don't it will get you killed."

"I know, but I'm not the type to stand by and watch someone suffering without trying to help them."

"I've had those turns all my life. So in future, just leave me alone then you won't be beaten. I will be okay, honestly John."

The word epilepsy flitted through John's mind. Poor kid, as if he didn't have enough to worry about. John lightly patted Seth's dirty arm, saying. "Okay, I promise but---"

John wanted to say more when a shrill tone echoed down the passageways marking the end of the day. If they didn't move quickly then they would be punished. So together, he and Seth stood and wearily shuffled behind the rest of the slaves as they made their way down the low roofed tunnel back towards the sleeping shelves.

It was the same old story every day and as they moved, John remained vigilant in the hopes of finding a weakness and way out of this awful place. However, the guards never gave an inch. Relentlessly watching every move and every step the slaves took. Only at night were they left alone to sleep behind a secured barricade.

The journey to the hold wasn't long and the slaves remained quiet apart from the occasional hacking cough or gasp of pain. No one talked very much anyway as their spirits had been crushed months ago and what was there to talk about other than wishing for death.

They shuffled to a halt and beneath the dirt, the pale faces stared brokenly as the guards let them pass into the sleeping area, one at a time.

As usual, the evening meal had been placed on a table positioned along one wall. The ration consisted of dry bread, watered down soup and when they were lucky, a small piece of fruit. Once the guards allowed them to eat, it would be a free for all as the stronger slaves tried to push the weaker ones out for more of a share. John had tried to reason with them, explaining that it should be equally divided. They had looked at him as if he was crazy and nothing had changed, so John had quickly learnt to take more than his fair share. Then if anyone were left out, John would share some of his ration with him. Although, he never went without himself as he knew how important it was to keep up his strength just in case a chance to escape arose. He didn't have to worry about Seth, as the kid gave as good as he got and his bowl was always full.

At the guards signal, John took a bowl from a shelf and elbowed his way into the throng of sickly slaves. Compared to the most, he was still in relatively good health so it took little effort to assert his position before the pot of unappetizing soup. Grabbing the ladle, John filled his bowl, broke off some bread and made his way over to his sleeping shelf. Tonight he would eat the whole bowl himself as his hunger was eating at him leaving his stomach aching from lack of wholesome food.

Listlessly spooning the tasteless concoction into his mouth, John thought about Rodney and wondered if he was doing all right. He certainly hoped that it was better than he was because John doubted if Rodney could cope in this type of situation.

His thoughts turned to Ronon and Teyla. Were they slaves? Somehow, John doubted it because he was petty sure that they had escaped during the assault and he'd seen no sign of them at the auction. Nevertheless, if they had escaped why hadn't they mounted a rescue mission yet?

John lifted his spoon once again and his eyes suddenly watered, he blamed it on the dust. But in truth, he knew that if a rescue mission had been possible it would have been undertaken by now. Which meant that maybe Ronon and Teyla hadn't made it back or they'd been unable to locate his and Rodney's whereabouts?

John watched as an unaccustomed tear fell into his soup. He didn't have the energy or enthusiasm to swipe the tears away, so he let them fall while longing for the nightmare to end through either rescue or -- death.

John shuddered at the thought. He had always considered himself to be strong but this location was breaking his spirit and unless something changed soon, he doubted being able to get out this alive.

Tbc


	7. Chapter 7

The Price of Freedom - Part 7

Rodney stared at the mirror and blinked. The face that stared back at him was hardly recognisable as his. He peered closer and touched his cheek. _Was that truly him? _

Majel smiled at his reaction. "I told you Sati was a master in the art of disguise."

"Yes, yes, you did but I didn't quite expect to look so … so … **old**."

"What would you have preferred? A younger look? Unfortunately, beards and white hair tend to make one look older. I think it is very good, and it had to match the description on your pass paper."

Rodney turned towards her and grumbled. "Yes, I know that but I'll never live this down when I get back home."

Majel looked saddened by his words. "Is that all you are worried about, what your people will think of you for looking like this? I would have thought getting away from here would have been your main concern."

Rodney suddenly felt like a jerk for having said anything in the first place but at least he had the decency to look ashamed. "Yes … you're right," he said. "Forget I said it. It's just my nerves getting the better of me and making me … err … selfish."

"I understand. Now let us go over the plan once again."

"Yes, yes, all right. My name is Helm. Sal Helm. I am a distant uncle to Bernard Ramo's wife. Ramo is a leading citizen as well as a trader in woven cloth and rugs. Today we are travelling to Lucia to deliver a special order of material and a Boltan rug for one of their citizens."

Majel looked pleased. "Yes, that is fine. Now as long as you do not say too much then there should not be any trouble. Do not forget that this is your first time through the great ring, so act a little nervous. The slavers who guard the ring are not usually the brightest but they are very vigilant."

"So don't get too cocky or too smart with them."

Majel nodded emphatically. "Yes, and please Rodney, above all, do not answer them back with your usual sarcasm as that could lead to much trouble. Ramo is putting his cover on the line for you. Please do not let him down."

"I'll certainly try not to. I want to get home and---" Rodney wanted to say, bring back an army to rescue Sheppard but it wasn't going to be as easy as that. For one thing, they had no idea where Sheppard was currently being held. He could be in the fortress or in the mine some thirty kilometres south of the community. Therefore, whatever form a rescue took it would have to be mounted with the utmost care and stealth.

The woman by his side knew it was hard for him to leave without his friend, so she lightly rested her hand on Rodney's arm. "It is for the best. I am sure your people will welcome you back but once again, I ask you to consider our safety before you come rushing back here with weapons and soldiers. We wish for change but not at the cost of many lives."

Rodney looked at her earnestly. "And I can reassure you that our leader wouldn't allow it." _Neither would Sheppard,_ Rodney thought, but he didn't voice that. Although, he had told Majel and her husband quite a few things about himself and the colonel, he had not told them that they were from the legendary city of Atlantis.

With nothing more to say, Majel lead Rodney out of Sati's house in order to meet up with the trader who was waiting for them at a secure location.

A short time later after Rodney had been introduced to Ramo and he'd said his goodbyes to Majel, he and his travelling companion started out on the long trek back towards the Stargate.

Ramo had left Rodney to carry the Boltan rug, which thankfully turned out to be more like a finely woven mat, not unlike the handmade silk rugs of oriental Earth. It wasn't very heavy but Rodney had still expressed a groan anyway, just for the sake of it.

By the time they reached the wonderful sight of the Ancient portal, Rodney's feet were absolutely killing him, even though he was wearing a pair of sturdy and comfortable shoes. He wasn't a good trekker at the best of times, although, his exaggerated hobble would now help in his disguise as a senior citizen. He certainly felt like one as they approached the waiting sentries standing warily before the deactivated gate.

Ramo did all the talking, as being a privileged one, he often travelled through the Stargate and the guards knew him well. As their pass papers were handed over, one of the slavers started making derisive comments. "Were did you dig up that old relic, citizen Ramo? He looks fit for the Wraith feeding grounds to me."

Rodney felt his blood boil and was just about to send back some scathing comment when Majel's words echoed in his head. So tongue in cheek, he settled for giving the slaver a dirty look.

However, Ramo was quick to defend him. "Mind your tongue, Baldock, and a little more respect for your elders. My wife will come after you with a cooking pan if she hears you call her great uncle an old relic."

Baldock actually went a little pale, giving Rodney the impression that Mrs Ramo must have quite a reputation. The slaver threw a comment to his companion in their own language, which wasn't commonly shared with the people of Tandara. The other laughed but quickly suppressed it when Ramo gave him a scornful look. Wanting you more trouble, the trader quickly gathered up his packages and requested dialling access.

"Sure, citizen Ramo," replied Baldock. "Here let me do it for you." So Rodney and the trader stood by as the slaver dialled up the address to Lucia.

Rodney watched as the event horizon established with mixed feelings. He was nearly in the clear but as he stepped into the puddle a few minutes later, his throat suddenly felt tight and painful with remorse. He would be home soon, yet Rodney couldn't suppress the feeling that he was letting Sheppard down.

Leaving this planet was proving to be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Just knowing that Sheppard was out there, going through god only knows what, left him feeling almost physically sick. It certainly sucked to have friends.

-SGA-

"You miserable little worm!"

How many times had John heard that screeched since he'd been made to work in the dreadful mine? Only this time it wasn't aimed at him, but rather at poor Seth who was currently taking a beating just because he had inadvertently caused a minor rockslide.

It was just a mound of stones but the way the guard was ranting on, anyone would think the tunnel was blocked by a ton of boulders. However, the guard wasn't satisfied with just using his oversized mouth. In his rage, he pulled Seth away from the rock fall and started beating the kid with the wooden rod that this particular guard loved to carry around and use on any hapless slave for hardly any reason at all.

The sound of thrashing wood against soft skin and the boy's screams echoed around the tunnel and John couldn't listen anymore.

Adrenaline surged through his veins as he stood up. Holding his shovel firmly with both hands, John shouted. "Leave the boy alone!"

"Get back to your work, slave, or you will be the next to feel my rod."

"Not until you leave the boy alone!"

The guard grabbed Seth by the hair and gave John a sneering look. "You miserable little worm!"

John pulled a face and frowned. "You know your vocabulary is terribly limited. Probably goes along with that minute pea you call a brain."

The guard may not have understood what a pea was, but the meaning was clear enough. His face went bright red, livid with rage, which probably killed off the last of his brain cells. Without a warning, he pushed the boy side and went after John like a rampant bull.

Sheppard anticipated such a move from the idiot and as the brute charged, he held his shovel firmly before him so that the tip of blade was angled up slightly.

When the guard struck, the impact nearly knocked John backward into the rock face, but he managed to keep his footing as the guard tumbled to the ground.

Regaining his balance, John stared down at the guard and winced at the sight of the shovel's dusty blade, which had cut through the man's clothing and had partially penetrated his abdomen. The guard appeared to be in shock as he stared down and blinked at the sight of the shovel.

Somewhere in his tiny mind, the man's fury must have still raged and without so much as a thought, he yanked the blade out of his stomach and made to rise on shaky legs. It took several attempts but once the brute had regained his footing, he narrowed his eyes and started to advance menacingly towards John with the bloody shovel held firmly in his right hand. John hastily backed away until there was nowhere else to go other than the low tunnel leading back to the sleeping area.

John kept his ground and winced again at the sight of the growing bloodstain on the guard's clothing. "You know, you shouldn't have done that. You should always leave the object in the wound until a doctor can look at it. That's what my good friend Dr. Beckett always tells me. It looks like you're bleeding out to me."

"We will see who is bleeding out after I am done with you," growled the guard.

John swallowed hard. He knew that he was screwed. Once the other guards arrived, he was probably done for. Seth was off whimpering in one corner, muttering, "No, John," repeatedly. While the other slaves had all found hiding places, so John was left on his own, yet again.

With nothing to lose, he slowly inched closer to a shovel that he'd spotted left abandoned on the dirty floor. The guard didn't seem to notice until John stooped down to pick it up.

Panicked, the man suddenly found a reserve of strength and picking up speed, he rushed towards John with the bloody shovel held high. Once again that was all John needed as he brought the shovel up to meet the oncoming brute.

This time, the blade met with no resistance as it cut deeply into soft tissue, severing arteries and causing further untold damage. The guard looked down his body in shocked disbelief before silently falling to the ground with a thud to lay motionless at John's feet as the last of his life left his body.

John looked down at the brute feeling no remorse at all, thinking, _No great loss there but what price would_ _he have to pay?_ He didn't have to wait long as the pounding of trampling feet echoed loudly up the tunnel. There was nowhere to run, so he stood motionless and silent as he listened to Seth's soft crying. Maybe, the boy had witnessed something like this before, John didn't know.

Dread surged through him when six guards rushed into the chamber and John braced himself ready for the inevitable. S_hould he try to defend himself or go down lightly?_ he wondered, but John knew that he was hopelessly outnumbered. So without a sound, he let the bloody shovel slip from his fingers to clatter noisily onto the stony ground.

Taking in the scene before him, the head guard also remained silent as his eyes travelled from the corpse over to John. Then suddenly without a warning, he and his companions rushed the defenceless colonel, tackling him brutally to the ground. What happened next was a free for all as John was kicked and pounded until his body was black and blue.

He tried to protect his head as best he could while waiting for the killing blow. This was not how he expected his life to end. Of all the scenarios that could have been, dying as a slave had not been one of them. Yet his life since coming to the Pegasus Galaxy had been full of the unexpected, so it came as a bit of a surprise when the beating suddenly ended and he was left alive.

Although, John felt like he'd been put through a meat grinder, he still had the strength to look up.

The head guard glared down at him with absolute hatred and what he said next sent a chill through John's abused body. "You will not get away with murder that easily, scum. The Master will no doubt have a special treat in store for you and by the time he has finished, you will be begging for your death." Saying no more, he signalled his guards to drag John away.

John's last view of the mine was the frightened expressions of his fellow slaves and Seth's tear streaked face before he gave into the waiting darkness.

-SGA-

"Unscheduled gate activation!" Chuck shouted loudly before a look of surprise crossed his face followed by a big smile, as he announced. "It's Dr. McKay's IDC."

Elizabeth could hardly believe her ears as she rushed down the stairs. A look of disbelief and absolute joy fell across her face while she waited with baited breath for the boys to come home.

Her countenance changed rapidly to one of mistrust when a single figure emerged from the gate, one she didn't recognise. The loud clicking of weapons being readied echoed around her as the Marines rushed to take up a defensive stance.

The stranger suddenly raised his hands. "Woe, woe! I didn't come all this way to have my head blown off! Lower your weapons, it's me!"

Elizabeth may not have recognised the face but the voice was clear enough. "Rodney?" she questioned.

"Well who else do you think it is? Father Time?"

It was Rodney all right. Only he could come home after a six weeks absence and use a tone laced with pure sarcasm.

Elizabeth tore her eyes from the old man and looked beyond him in anticipation, but the gate shut down. "Where's John?" she questioned.

McKay's eyes clouded with what Elizabeth thought she would never see him show, unshed tears. Her heart began to thump loudly as Rodney began to explain. "He's not with me. It's a long story and we need to talk. First though, I want to get out of this horrible disguise."

"You're no going anywhere, Rodney. Not until I've had a chance to examine ya." The much loved and welcome brogue of Rodney's doctor friend declared from the top of the stairs.

Rodney may have restrained himself from hugging Elizabeth but he welcomed the friendly hug that Carson gave him once he'd joined them.

"Okay," Rodney conceded, "but I really need to get out of this. I feel like a hundred and ten years old."

"Aye and ya look it too." Carson said, before he began to lead Rodney in the direction of the infirmary.

Elizabeth started to follow but not before she sent, one more sad and disappointing glance towards the Stargate. As she turned away, she noticed Caldwell standing on the balcony staring down at her. He gave her a brief nod and indicated that he'd liked to be debriefed. However, she chose to ignore him and quickly made her way to the infirmary.

tbc

_Thanks again for all the fantastic reviews. It's great to have them. _


	8. Chapter 8

The Price of Freedom - Part 8

"So ya went with this trader to Lucia and then onto Teyla's people's planet before dialling back Atlantis?"

"Yes, yes, of course, Carson, how else was I going to get home after they took my GDO? I met up with Halling and he was only too willing to give me his GDO to di---"

"It's a good job Halling and his people are a friendly bunch. Looking the way ya did it's a wonder they didn't toss ya back." Carson interrupted as he finished removing Rodney's artificial beard and made to throw it in the nearest trash receptacle.

"Oh, no, no, no." Rodney nearly shouted making Carson jump a little. "Watch what you're doing with that, I need to keep it intact."

"Now why in heavens name would ya be wanting to keep an artificial beard for, Rodney?"

"Because my dear, Carson, I need to use it when I return to Tandara."

Elizabeth immediately caught McKay's words from where she stood a short distance away discussing something with Teyla. Quickly moving over, she confronted him. "Rodney, you are not going back there."

"Oh, and who is going to rescue Sheppard?"

"We'll send a team in a cloaked jumper. Major Lorne can lead them and I'm sure Ronon and Teyla will want to be included."

McKay gave her one of his long-suffering looks. "Oh and how do you propose to get through the Stargate without alerting the slavers … huh?"

Elizabeth knew that Rodney had a good point but she hated it when he became overly snarky. Obliviously, he was worried about John and maybe, he even felt some guilt over having to leave him behind but his sarcasm wasn't helping matters. "Rodney, we need to talk this through and plan it properly. I know you want to be the one to go back but I think the risk is too high."

Of course, Rodney had failed to tell them one very vital piece of information. "My return is already arranged."

Elizabeth threw him a look of astonishment. "I beg your pardon?"

Rodney suddenly realised his mistake. "Oh! Didn't I tell you?"

Carson decided to speak up, as Elizabeth was still looking rather speechless. "Tell us what, Rodney?"

"That I've arranged to meet up with the trader and go back to Tandara in two days time. That's when he planned to return anyway." When they still looked unconvinced, he continued. "I thought it would be an ideal opportunity to get a rescue team through without being noticed."

Teyla decided to join the conversation and add her own concerns. "I believe the slavers will still hear the Jumper pass even though it is cloaked."

"Yes, yes, that's true. That's why I need to distracted them for a few minutes."

"And how do you plan to do that? Assuming that I allow you to go, Rodney," Elizabeth questioned him with a slightly louder voice than normal.

McKay turned to give her a pleading look. "I have to go. I can't leave him there. Anyway, how else do you plan on getting pass the guards?"

Elizabeth sighed as he had a good point. "We'll talk about this after you've had a good rest. Alright?" Rodney nodded, reluctantly, but it was an argument that he had every intention of winning.

-SGA-

A sharp rod painfully prodding his side roused John from his stupor. The poking accompanied his tormenter's harsh voiced question. "Are you comfortable, slave?"

John opened a bleary eye to give the tyrant a disdainful look. "Yeah."

The guard known as Halden laughed loudly. "You have a very strange sense of humour. It is a pity that you are such a useless murdering piece of slime."

John found that rather ironic coming from a man such as Halden who probably had no qualms about killing a slave. He straightened and attempted to shift into a more comfortable position, but he could hardly move at all, being confined and held upright in a very tight cage. The effort of moving caused another ripple of agony to pass through his body when the cold metal mesh cut into his damaged skin.

This was his second day of incarceration and his discomfort was growing by the hour. The sides of the cage continually pressed into his battered body and he'd been given nothing to eat or drink other then some moisture from a wetted sponge which had been thrust through the mesh several times a day. It had hardly touched his thirst.

John had no doubt in his mind that he'd been put up here to die. It would be a slow and painful death. Nevertheless, unless something changed soon that would be the definite outcome.

The cage had been suspended from the fortress wall so that all could witness his suffering. They had left him as an example to the other slaves, no doubt to warn them of the cost of defiance. Each day the household slaves had been forced to trail by him, a few at a time. He'd been told that they would come everyday until they witnessed his dead and saw his rotting corpse. John hadn't cared much about the others but when Sirena had been pushed before him, he had seen genuine pain and tears in her eyes, and that had hurt.

Night was fast approaching, his second night. The first night had been warmer. However, this one was growing chillier by the minute and it looked like it could rain. Yet, John welcomed the thought; at least it would give him some water.

The wind was whipping up into quite a gale, pushing leaves and dust into his prison cage. John shivered violently as another blast of cold air hit his exposed skin through the rough mesh. They had stripped him of his clothing apart from his underwear but that offered little in the way of protection. His shivering became more pronounced when a strong gust of wind announced the first drops of icy rain, and as they began to fall, it drove his tormenter inside.

Although his teeth chattered, John lifted his head as much as possible and opened his mouth to capture the falling drops. It gave him some welcome relief. However, unable to move his arms, he couldn't wrap them around his freezing body to conserve any heat as the rain turned to a heavy downpour. Soaking him more than he possibly needed.

His shivering grew extreme and with it his pain. John lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut against the agony. He knew that if it didn't stop raining soon, he would freeze to death before the night was over. Strangely, he almost welcomed it, as it would finally give him peace from his torment.

-SGA-

Gallus Karakus was mightily pleased with himself as he lifted his podgy hand to push another delicate pastry into his big mouth. Thanks to a careless slave, a new seam of gold had been discovered at the mine making him even richer.

Licking his fingers clean of the sticky sugary coating, he scowled as Halden came striding into the room, looking greatly pleased and smug. Karakus really didn't want to be disturbed by the annoying man but his curiosity made him ask. "What makes you so happy, guard?"

Halden snickered behind his hand. "It is raining, Master, which means that the murdering slave will probably be dead come sunup."

Karakus leaned forward on his gold and silk padded throne to ponder his words. "If that is the case, then he will not have given us much entertainment."

At those words, Halden lost some of his excitement. "Yes, that is true, Master."

Without replying, Karakus stood with some difficulty. He then shuffled over to a small window to peer outside. He couldn't see much as the lashing rain splattered heavily against the glass making visibility extremely obscure. So pressing his face against the pane, Karakus ordered that the oil lamps be dimmed. He continued to stare in vain until a lull in the rain cleared the visibility enough for him to make out the distant wall and the silhouette of the cage containing the condemned slave.

_Such a waste_, he thought. It annoyed him intensely that he had never broken the man. The bastard would die, but he would die without servitude to the true master of Tandara. Namely him, Karakus the Great.

Death seemed an easy way out. _Far too easy_, Karakus pondered as he recalled the words the troublesome slave had spoken just before his interment. Seething with rage over the death of the guard, Karakus had once again asked the slave who the hell he thought was by killing his man in cold blood. The slave had quietly answered, "A free man defending another."

Karakus had lost his temper at those words and had lashed out, beating the slave repeatedly with his small whip as the guards had held him upright. "You will never be free again!" Karakus had screamed before ordering that the slave be placed in the cage.

Turning from the window, Karakus continued to ponder. There was something about the slave. Something that tasted like power, of a man aware of command, Karakus had recognised it from the beginning and it had frightened him.

Common sense told him to leave the man out there to die in the bitterly cold and wet night. _However, where was the challenge in that?_ Karakus thought. He liked a challenge and he liked to think that he was a sporting man. Karakus stopped to consider as an idea began to form. He had hunted slaves before but never one with such defiant willpower and courage. Yes, it would be very interesting indeed to see how long the slave could avoid him before he got him in his sights.

Turning to Halden, he surprised the guard by saying. "Get the slave down and put him in a warm and dry place. Then see to it that he gets good food and his injuries cared for."

Halden's mouth dropped open before he stuttered in confusion. "Yes, Master. Are you sure? That will not show a good example to the other slaves."

Karakus narrowed his eyes at the man. "Do you question my orders?"

"Oh, no, Master, I only question the wisdom of such a move."

"The other slaves will learn quickly enough what it means to defy me when they see me bring home his corpse after I have shot him down like an animal. You can then leave his body to rot on the wall for all I care."

Halden brightened at those words. "Oh, yes. That is a very good idea, Master."

"Yes, I thought so, too. That is why I am the Master and you are just a simple guard." With a wave of his fat hand, he dismissed the man.

-SGA-

John was barely aware as they lowered the cage and pulled him out. He felt a blanket thrown over his shoulders but it hardly touched the feeling of being frozen to the core. And as they dragged him into the warmth of the fortress, John was sure that he was bordering on hypothermia because his body continued to shudder violently.

He expected to be taken to the dungeons or worse but was greatly surprised when they took him into a small but comfortably warm room, where he was lowered onto a soft surface. Someone gently dried him off and removed his wet underwear before wrapping cosy blankets around this frozen body.

John eventually allowed himself to drift when the violent shivers began to subside and tiny amount of comfort crept into his bones.

A soft familiar voice woke him sometime later, encouraging him to drink from a cup of warming broth. He managed to sip a small amount before looking up into the worried eyes of Sirena, not really understanding what was going on.

Sirena hushed him and encouraged him to drink, but a few sips later, he could manage no more. She put the cup aside and then stroked his brow. "Are you feeling warmer now?"

Unable to find his voice for a moment, John simply nodded. His pain had increased with the warmth and he drifted near to unconsciousness. However, before he allowed it to overtake him, he had one question to ask. "Why … am I here … and not still in the … cage?"

John thought he saw a look of foreboding and concern in her eyes before she answered him. "Halden is gloating that the Master has found a better punishment for you. I am worried, John, as rumour has it that the Master intends to hunt you down."

The information left John confused. "What?"

"His hunting grounds. He will let you rest and recover for a few days and then take you into the woods and shoot you down like a poor helpless Teekie."

Through his hazy mind, John thought that that didn't sound so good. "I supposed … he'll have all the weapons … while I'll have none?" Sirena nodded sadly. "Oh, very … fair." However, John felt too exhausted and sick to worry about it now, so he let go and drifted into oblivion as Sirena continued to soothe his troubled brow.

Tbc


	9. Chapter 9

The Price of Freedom – Part 9

Sirena sensed the brute coming, so she quickly moved to the door and barred Halden from entering John's room. "He still has a fever," she begged. "You can not take him."

Towering over her and ignoring her words, Halden barked, "Get out of my way old woman! The Master will not tolerate anymore of your excuses."

John turned towards her to give her an imploring look and a slight shake of his head. Sirena knew what he meant because she stood no chance against the guard. Reluctantly, she stepped aside and allowed him to enter.

For several days now, Sirena had feed John, tended to his wounds and helped him to gain some strength for the ordeal ahead. And every time Halden had come to check on his progress, Sirena had tried her hardest to delay him as John had been ill with a really high fever. However, today it wasn't bad enough to incapacitate him and although he was still very weak and feverish, he was in better condition than he had been a few days ago.

John sat waiting on the edge of the bed as the callous guard approached him. He was dressed in a simple beige coloured tunic and Sirena had found some sandals for his abused feet. They helped a little but his feet were still sore and blistered, as they had never really had a chance to heal. Although, he still felt drained and sickly, at least he was clean and freshly shaven making him feel slightly more human.

Resistance at this point would be useless, so John quietly stood and allowed Halden to chain him by the wrists and reattach the dreaded slave collar, which they had removed before John had been put in the cage. Halden then attached a chain to the collar before leading him from the room.

John put up no opposition as he stumbled despairingly behind the guard. Nevertheless, he gave Sirena a warm smile to thank her for all she had done.

Sirena turned tear filled eyes towards him and said a silent prayer. She continued to watch as Halden dragged him down the corridor, but the minute they were out of sight, she quietly slipped away from the room.

The spectacle that greeted John as Halden pulled him into an open courtyard reminded him of a scene from a badly made B movie. Decked out in some tasteless and garish clothing, Karakus was sitting awkwardly, like a pompous ass, on top of a creature that looked like a cross between a mule and a carthorse. You could almost see the poor animal buckling under the strain of have to support his enormous weight. The creature's body was adorned with a glittery, highly coloured blanket under the saddle and the bridle was covered in brassy tassels and bells along its length.

Several other animals where leashed behind the master's mount. Some appeared to be carrying provisions and on one, there was a long leather case attached to the saddle that looked suspiciously like it could contain a rifle.

Making up the rear of the cortege was a rickety looking cage, which was fixed to a four-wheeled undercarriage. Two of the horsy creatures were harnessed up front and it was into this contraption that John was pushed and prodded. He entered it with as much dignity and defiance as he could muster because the household slaves had been made to look on. They stood around in silence, some openly gawking while others looked terrified, John didn't know if it was for him or themselves.

Once the cage door was firmly secured, the small convoy started to move off at a slow and plodding pace. The prison carriage swayed like a small boat in rough seas as it began to roll over the uneven and stony ground. The violent motion sent John crashing into the bars, causing pain to shoot through his abused body.

Swallowing down the pain, he went with the motion until he got control over it by intertwining his arms firmly through the bars and desperately grabbing hold for support. From his half-upright position, John wearily looked around, taking note of the fact that there were only two guards accompanying Karakus. Unsurprisingly, one of them was Halden.

A small number of slaves had been forced to walk behind the cortege near his carriage, presumably brought along to serve the master. They refused to make any eye contract with him. John concluded that they were completely loyal and submissive to their master.

The weather was mildly better than it had been on the night he'd been taken from the cage but the heavy rain had left the pathways rutted and muddy. From time to time, the cart's skinny wheels caught in the deeper ruts and the whole contraption swayed dangerously, from side to side making John feel positively green. Being a pilot, he wasn't usually prone to motion sickness, but his poor health and the light fever helped to aggravate the feeling.

He glanced up at the grey overcast sky. It looked ominous with more rain, as dark and miserable as he felt. Things were really looking hopeless, but John found that he couldn't muster up enough energy or anxiety to worry about it. After all, he'd expected to die some days ago. Therefore, in truth, he was living on borrowed time. He had always been optimistic in the past but right now, John was almost willing to give up if only it would end his pain.

As his depression deepened, John felt that he couldn't sit up anymore, so he eased himself down to rest his hot and aching body against the hard wooden floor. Dark thoughts continued to whirl through his head. He had no disillusions about his fate. In the next hour or so, Karakus would do his utmost to get him in his sights and end his suffering. _Would his friends and colleagues back in Atlantis even realise what had become of him?_

His mind drifted for a few moments but in time, his thoughts turned to Rodney, self-declared genius and good friend. Once again, John wondered if he had made it off this rock yet. He certainly hoped so for Rodney's sake; otherwise, his talents would certainly be wasted living on this god-forsaken planet as a slave.

Thoughts of Rodney, his friends and the continuous motion of the carriage eventually sent him into a fevered doze. He didn't even realise that the journey had ended until Halden forcibly poked him with his rod. Listlessly, John allowed them to pull him from the cage, giving them the impression that he had given up. Maybe this action helped because surprisingly, Halden shoved a canteen filled with fresh water into his hand and ordered him to drink before the master came striding over.

"We will set up camp in our usual place." Karakus told his slaves, and then pointing a stubby finger towards a small sturdy tree, he ordered. "And for the moment you can tie the prey up over there."

Still clutching the canteen, John meekly allowed Halden to drag him over to the indicated spot. After pushing John down, the guard firmly secured his upper arms and body to the tree using some strong rope.

Looking down at him somewhat irritated and angry, Halden kicked John's leg and growled. "What's wrong with you?" When John refrained from answering, he grabbed a handful of his unruly hair. "I am warning you, slave. If you do not put up some kind of fight, I will cause you more pain until you do."

John looked at him as if he wasn't interested and he still didn't say a word. Halden made to let go of his hair but not before giving him a taste of what he meant by twisting the strands so hard that a clump fell out. John gritted his teeth against the throbbing pain, stubbornly refusing to cry out.

Maybe, it was Halden's action, but suddenly John found his depression lifting and his will to fight return. He wouldn't let this poor excuse of a human live to torment anyone ever again. If this was the day he was to die, then John intended to take Halden with him and if he had the strength and some good fortune, Karakus too.

Although he was still feeling like crap, John knew that he would need a good surge of adrenaline to see him through. Therefore, he let a large amount of anger and frustration take the place of his lethargy when he thought of all the things he would lose if he gave up now. If he was to die, at least his friends should be proud of him, if they were ever to find out what happened. He needed to leave a mark and he reckoned killing Halden and Karakus wouldn't be a bad one.

With renewed interest, John began to survey his surroundings more closely. The slaves had set-up some kind of canopy, presumably to keep their master dry in case of rain. Placed under the canopy was a large wooden chair and next to it stood a table that had been laid out with bowls of fruit, sweets and pastries. The whole camp was set-up on top of what looked like a rocky ridge, but from his present position, John couldn't see what lay beyond. He could only guess that it could be a cliff or steep decline. The ridge was surrounded by some dense looking woods and John vaguely wondered how they intended to keep him from escaping.

A sudden chilling thought caused him to shiver. _Maybe their idea of hunting was to stand him at the edge of the ridge and use him as target practice._ He wouldn't put that past Karakus or Halden, and if that was the case, then his best bet was to try to escape before that could happen.

John continued to watch and observe for at least another hour while Karakus rested and gorged himself by continuously stuffing his mouth full. John was too pent-up to feel any real hunger, and the sight of Karakus and his piggish behaviour was making him feel positively nauseous.

-SGA-

Rodney couldn't help keeping a smirk from his face as Teyla helped to re-apply his old man disguise. The result may not be quite as good as Sati's work but it would suffice, as Rodney did not intend to stick around long enough for the slavers to question the slight change in his appearance, if they even noticed.

Teyla, dressed and ready for combat, applied the last bit of makeup. "I hope that is something like the original look, Dr. McKay?"

Rodney waved his hand. "It will do. Come on, they must be waiting for us by now."

Teyla smiled slightly at his impatience, but she knew that most of it arose from his concern for John. Resting a hand on his arm, she reassured him. "We will find the Colonel. Of that, I am sure."

Rodney started to move off before he answered her. "Yes, yes, but I'll be happier when this whole ordeal is over and I can get back to my work. Do you know that I haven't done any research for over seven weeks now? It's going to take me months to catch-up. I just hope Sheppard will be grateful."

Teyla sighed as she moved alongside him. "I am sure he will be. However, we need to get him back first."

Rodney nodded gravely. He was nervous and extremely worried about that. "Yes, we do," he simply replied.

A few minutes later, they entered the jumper bay, which was currently a hive of actively. Major Lorne, who was leading the rescue mission, along with six marines, Dr. Beckett and naturally John's team, was overseeing the last minute preparations as the Marines settled into the rear compartment of Jumper Five.

Ronon was already up front, as Teyla and Rodney joined him. He had to stifle a snigger when he saw McKay. Rodney shot a dirty look his way before settling into the co-pilot's seat. Although, he wouldn't be going the whole way to Tandara in the jumper, he needed to set the gate co-ordinates for their first port of call.

A few minutes later, Lorne and Carson joined them indicating that, the mission could get underway. The jumper quickly began its descent into the gateroom and Rodney dialled-up the address for Lucia.

From her position overlooking the Stargate, Elizabeth wished them good luck over the radio before turning to her companion.

"I'm sure they will find him." Steven Caldwell said quietly. "I am only sorry that the Daedalus isn't here to help with the search."

Elizabeth simply nodded. This was more like the Caldwell that she had come to know and trust over the last six months or so, not the overbearing military officer that he had presented himself to be, for whatever reason, these last few weeks.

The Colonel watched her reaction closely and surprised her again when he said. "Sheppard's a good man and he's done a great job here."

She smiled slightly. "Yes, he certainly has." Caldwell returned her smile but said nothing more, so she left it at that.

-SGA-

John watched Karakus lick his sticky fingers and belch so loudly that it echoed across the rocky ridge. That was the last straw for his stomach. Feeling positively queasy, John leaned awkwardly to one side to retch several times until the feeling began to pass off. Emptying his stomach had finally relieved the awful nausea he'd felt since arriving on the plateau.

He still had the canteen clutched tightly in his right hand, and although it was difficult, he managed to pour some water onto his left palm and bring it to his lips to wash out his mouth.

While John had been busy vomiting, Karakus had finally finished eating and was now standing examining the weapon that he had taken out of the leather case. John didn't become aware that things were about to change until Halden's shadow loomed over him.

Kicking John's sandaled feet, Halden sneered, "Time to die, slave!" before bending down to remove John's footwear. "And you certainly will not need these," he announced as he threw the sandals as far as he could. They landed in a thorny bush.

For a second or two, John's despondency returned. _How could he fight back with bare feet that were still sore and painful?_ Then he thought, _No, he wasn't going to let this little setback deter him from his goal. _And although it was hard, he told himself, _Buck-up John, you have a task to do._

Halden quickly untied him and once John was free of the tree, the guard pulled him up and dragged him nearer to the camp. It had started to drizzle and losing his balance, John slipped on some wet stones. Halden growled angrily. "Watch your footing, slave."

"You know, I have a name. It's John Sheppard."

Without stopping, Halden shouted over his shoulder. "That does not interest me in the slightest, slave!The only thing that is important is seeing the Master put some pellets between your eyes!"

Those words made John realise that the weapon Karakus was playing with was in fact a shotgun of some kind, meaning that things just become far worse. If Karakus decided to use it now, John wouldn't stand a chance.

So when Halden ordered him to stop, John made his opinion known. "You know, this is not very sporting. If Karakus shots me here, where's the fun in that?"

Halden snorted. "Do not worry. The Master is not that lazy. I am to take you to Teekie grazing land not far from here and attach you to pole using a long rope. When the Master eventually arrives, you are free to run around as much as you can to avoid his shots. But believe me, sooner or later, he will get you. Oh and if you think you can escape, these lands are surrounded by a very well protected, high stone wall."

"Oh, very fair." John muttered. If he was to survive, he needed to overcome Halden before he attached him to the pole. He only hoped that the other guard wouldn't tag along.

Then a few minutes after thinking that and much to John's despair, the other guard suddenly appeared behind him cradling one of the wicked looking blade weapons that he'd seen his escort guards carrying just before the auction. The guard moved around him and spun the weapon playfully as if to intimidate. Every now and again, he thrust the thing towards John, sometimes coming quite close. John was beginning to think that it would take a miracle to save him now.

However, Halden shouted at the guard to stop messing around and then he left the man to watch John while he marched over to his boss and conferred with him at length. Occasionally, the two would glance towards their victim, and although John couldn't catch what was being said, he was sure it wasn't nice.

Maybe his best bet was to lure them into thinking that he was feeble. It wasn't far from the truth as his fever still burnt and his stomach began to rebel again, but that was more likely caused by nerves. When they turned to him again, John swayed and stumbled to the side as if overcome by a dizzy spell, but they took no notice.

So John swayed again and used the opportunity to manoeuvre just a little closer towards the camp thus giving him a better view of what lay beyond the rocky ridge. His first thoughts had been correct, as it did appear to be a drop off. Although just how high the cliff really was, John couldn't hazard a guess. He tried moving again, but the other guard growled at him angrily and pointed his weapon, so John gave the pretence at being extremely fatigued and promptly sat down.

Halden saw it and wasted no time in marching over to John and giving him hefty kick in the side. "Who told you to sit down, slave?!" he shouted.

John wanted to say, I did, but he settled for giving the brute of doleful look, hoping that his face portrayed how weak he wanted them to believe him to be.

It must have made some impression because Halden's next words went straight to the point. "You need not worry as your wretched life is nearly at an end. Karakus the Great will begin the hunt when you are secured and then he will put you out of your misery soon enough." He bent down closer to John and advised. "If you want it to go quicker, then just stand still and let the Master take aim." With those words, he yanked John to his feet using the collar chain. John had to swallow hard against the choking feeling when Halden began to drag him away. Fortunately, due to his overconfidence or just plain stupidly, Halden ordered the other guard to stay with Karakus.

A narrow pathway had been driven between the grazing land and the camp, which made the going just a little bit easier. Nevertheless, John's feet began to suffer badly as he stumbled behind Halden. Pain continually shot up his legs now but he suppressed it by pushing it to the back of his mind. He had far more pressing matters to worry about than his cut and bleeding feet. And although the trek was taking far longer than John would have liked, he had been very thankful that the other guard had stayed behind because at least it gave him a fighting chance.

In due course, Halden called a halt in what looked like a pleasant meadow surrounded by a thick band of trees and brushes. John had really wanted to deal with Halden along the pathway but the opportunity just hadn't arisen. Now surveying in the grassy meadow with its tall gently swaying grasses and colourful flowers, he began to wonder if it ever would. The meadow looked like an ideal place for a picnic not a place to kill or die.

Not far off a herd of animals, which John presumed were the Teekie, were grazing on the rich pasture completely unaware of the drama that was about to unfold. They looked a little like gazelles with gold stripy bodies and flicking tails.

In the middle of the meadow stood a metal pole about three metres in height to which a long rope was attached. Obliviously, John wasn't the only victim of the master's need to hunt without having to move his fat ass very far. Maybe, his idea of hunting was to have someone catch a Teekie and attach it to the pole while he got it in his sights. Then again, maybe John wasn't the first human Karakus had killed in such a cowardly fashion.

As Halden began to drag him nearer to the pole, John knew he had to act now or not at all. So slipping into fight mode and with a healthy dose of optimism, he suddenly lowered his head and charged Halden, butting him firmly in the back.

Taken by surprise, the guard lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. Unfortunately, he didn't let go of the chain and the tension pulled John off balance. Without warning, he fell down to land awkwardly across Halden's back.

The guard growled, anxious to shake John off him but the colonel seized the opportunity to slip his wrist chain around the brute's neck and pulled with all his might. However, Halden was strong and in far better condition than John. Grabbing the chain, he managed to slide his fingers under it and pull it away from his neck before tossing John over his head.

Winded, John landed on his side not far from the pole. Something suddenly caught his eye in the long grass. It glinted in the light and while Halden was busy righting himself, John eased a little closer to the object. What he saw made his heart beat even faster as it appeared to be a very large wicked looking metal trap, the spring-loaded type. Whether it had been planted there to snare him or a long forgotten trap to kill a Teekie was uncertain, but John knew that if he had fallen a metre or so to the left it would have got him. He didn't have time to consider further as Halden viciously grabbed his neck chain and attempted to pull him through the grass towards the rope.

With a growing urgency, John quickly made note of the position of the trap before springing to his feet to attack Halden with his wrist chain. The guard howled and cried out in pain as John firmly struck him in the legs, but the brute remained steadfast.

Running purely on adrenaline and with nothing else to lose, John lowered his head and launched himself, this time butting the guard firmly in the stomach. Halden bellowed loudly as he lost his balance and toppled backwards like a felled tree. Suddenly, his yell was cut short by a sickening twang and John knew exactly where the guard had landed.

Sheppard scarcely dared to look. He lay winded, panting hard in an attempt to catch his breath but sooner or later he knew that he had to check and see if Halden was incapacitated or not. So holding his chain at the ready, he cautiously crawled towards the prone man, not getting too close in case he was playing possum.

Then through the long grass, John could see that the trap had indeed been sprung. He caught sight of fresh blood glistening in the sun, so feeling more confident he dragged himself a little closer. The sight that greeted him made his stomach turn. Halden had fallen onto the trap and the thing had snapped shut around his left shoulder and neck.

Feeling pretty convinced that the man was dead. John painfully crawled to his side and carefully leaned forward. Halden's staring eyes were open wide and blood still jetting out from under one of the trap's large metal teeth. John guessed that the jugular vein might have been hit.

Confident that the guard was dead, John shuffled closer in order to search the body. He was just about to examine Halden's tunic when a hand suddenly shot out to grab his neck chain and John was forcibly yanked backwards to land near brute's head. Halden's blood spurted all over John's tunic as he desperately struggled to regain his balance but Halden wouldn't let go. The guard was attempting to speak but all that came out was a gurgling sound.

It was making John feel positively ill but he took the time to mutter. "I bet you left this trap here? Forgot about it, did you?"

Halden didn't react as John made one last desperate bid to free his chain by digging in his heels and yanking hard with both hands. Without warning, he abruptly fell backwards to land with a teeth-jarring jolt when Halden's fingers suddenly went slack.

Winded but grateful to be free, John glanced at the gruesome sight. He was now absolutely certain that Halden was dead and he felt no remorse at all as he painfully crawled back towards the corpse. He really needed to find a weapon and if possible, the keys to free his collar and chains.

Disappointingly, as he searched, he only came up with a dagger. It was better than having nothing. So giving up the gruesome task, as he couldn't waste anymore time, John rose unsteadily. Once his dizziness and equilibrium had settled down to something more normal, he took a deep breath and pushing the pain aside, he lurched across the meadow towards the path leading back to Karakus's encampment.

He could have tried hiding out but that really wasn't an option because he was pretty certain that Karakus wouldn't rest until he was found. Then there was the fact that John didn't know how far the woods extended before they reached the wall. He wondered if Halden had been bluffing about that, as building a wall around such a large area seemed like a huge and expensive undertaking. One the other hand, if there was no barrier what was stopping the slaves from escaping, at least those who were allowed to work beyond the fortress. John also recalled that Halden had mentioned something about the wall being well protected. That could mean a number of things from guards to some kind of animal, like dogs for example.

Not having any desire to find out, John started out along the pathway. Although fighting Halden had left him totally exhausted, he was still determined to take out Karakus, if only to help Sirena and Seth.

tbc


	10. Chapter 10

The Price of Freedom – Part 10

McKay swayed under the load of goods that Ramo had dumped on him to take through the Stargate and although it had been all part of the plan, Rodney thought he'd gone a little overboard with the amount. After all, he wasn't a carthorse.

The jumper hovered patiently behind him and the trader as they prepared to return to Tandara. It was cloaked and ready to move the minute the two men entered the event horizon, as Major Lorne planned to follow regardless of whether the distraction worked or not. He couldn't risk having the wormhole shut down by the slavers before they could get through.

As the wormhole formed, McKay doggedly followed Ramo and a few seconds later, he was confronted by an armed slaver demanding to see his papers. Ramo was talking to the other sentry. Thankfully, they were standing well away from the event horizon. Rodney knew that he had to move quickly before the jumper came through, so he lurched to one side as if the load he was carrying had become too much to handle. Unfortunately, what was supposed to have been an act became the real thing when he completely lost his balance and tumbled down the steps, scattering Ramo's goods all over the place.

The trader made a show of being very angry as he stormed over to his old companion, ranting and raging about how clumsy he was. In all the confusion and noise, no one noticed the whoosh of air and the slight hum as the jumper passed overhead. No one except McKay. With the jumper safely through and wanting no more trouble, Rodney held up his hands and made a gesture of apology before fishing into his pockets to produce the necessary document.

This seemed to satisfy the slavers, but neither of them made a move to help McKay or Ramo as they quickly gathered up the scattered goods. Five minutes later, they were heading towards the town and the planned rendezvous point.

When the jumper finally came into view as it de-cloaked, Rodney let out the breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding. It seemed that things had gone much better than planned, for once.

Turning to Ramo, he said. "Well, I guess this is where we say goodbye. And err … thank you."

"You are welcome but do not forget that after you get your man, please leave this planet as quickly as you can. I do not want my cover compromised."

"Oh, you needn't worry about that, your secret is safe with us. I don't want to stay here any longer than necessary. Your planetary system st---"

Luckily, Teyla chose that moment to slip out of the hatch and call. "Dr. McKay! It would be advisable not to stay uncloaked for too long."

"Yes, yes, you're right." Quickly dumping the goods into Ramo's arms, Rodney headed for the jumper. "Don't drop anything!" He threw over his shoulder before disappearing into the re-cloaked vehicle.

The trader scowled over the top of his pile. McKay and his people were certainly a mystery but it was one that he wasn't willing to question.

-SGA-

Remaining constantly on the alert, John heard the faint sound of shifting stones around a slight bend in the pathway. He couldn't see anyone but without a second thought, he moved into the woods as quiet and fast as his bleeding feet would allow and waited. A few minutes later, the second guard came into view. The man appeared to be alone, obviously being used as a messenger.

With a sinking feeling, John knew that he couldn't allow the guard to find Halden's corpse. Therefore, he had to act quickly. However in the back of his mind came hesitation. Did the guard still have the fancy weapon on him? Regardless, John had no other choice, so holding his knife firmly, he allowed the man to pass by before emerging from his hiding place.

Moving as quietly as he could, he ignored the stabbing pain that twisted up his legs with each careful step. The guard seemed completely oblivious as John stealthily approached his vulnerable back, and although the element of surprise was on John's side, would it be enough?

The guard suddenly halted when a stone slipped from under John's bare foot. Without a second thought, using his knowledge and expertise, John immediately lunged for the man's exposed neck. He hated killing this way but he had no other option.

It was over in a matter of seconds and the man fell to the ground without a sound. Withdrawing the knife, John quickly looked around and with an effort that his body really couldn't afford, he dragged the corpse into the trees to hide it before searching for the missing keys.

Once again, he came up empty handed, which meant only one thing Karakus must have them. The guard didn't have the bladed weapon on him, only another simple dagger. With a disappointed sigh, John eased himself up and prepared to confront the master while still in chains, and armed only with two daggers.

It wasn't that far to the camp now, but John's body was telling him in no easy terms that it had had enough and the world swayed for a moment or two as he started out on trembling legs. His mild fever had risen leaving him flushed and shaky. Blood covered much of his clothing, and even if most of it wasn't his, John was pretty sure that some of it was. However, he had come this far, so nothing short of death was going to stop him from getting Karakus now.

Pure determination and stubbornness ultimately brought John to the edge of the encampment. He took a moment to access the situation from behind a leafy bush. It seemed that Karakus had decided to take another meal while he waited. Presumably for the second guard to return with news that the so-called hunt could begin. Once again, his serving slaves were all over their master seeing to his every need and John took note of the fact that the shotgun was carelessly propped up against the table, the bladed weapon was nowhere in sight.

John weighed up the odds. A straightforward attack would probably end in disaster. Then a plan of sorts began to form in his mind. Although, it was a long shot and entirely depended on the slaves not interfering and helping their master.

Somehow, John had to lure Karakus towards the edge of the cliff. So keeping a distance from the camp, he slowly edged his way towards the drop off mainly to see what the conditions were like at the bottom.

John had nearly made it when a yell filled the air; one of the slaves had caught sight of him. Cursing, he desperately searched for some cover before Karakus could take aim. The odds weren't looking so good as the nearest rock or tree was some 30 metres away. He couldn't run anymore without suffering excruciating pain, so he decided to take a stance and hope that the master's aim wasn't all that good.

When Karakus reacted to the slave's shout, John could almost see the fat wobbling and his jowls quivering with indignation or maybe even fright. He was shouting something to his slaves while reaching for his gun. John couldn't make out what Karakus was saying but he guessed that it was orders to protect their master. That was something John didn't really want, but he couldn't do a thing about it if the slaves decided to intervene.

With nothing to lose, John slowly closed the distance.

-SGA-

"That's it!" McKay exclaimed loudly, pointing a finger towards the familiar and ugly fortress.

Lorne looked up from the pilot seat. "Okay, what do we do now? Just fly in and demand Colonel Sheppard back?"

Ronon fingered his gun and nodded with enthusiasm, but Teyla put a calming hand on his shoulder. "That is one way to get the Colonel killed before we can recover him."

"Yes, Teyla is right. Firstly we need to check if he is even in there," stated McKay. "Then I would suggest we land and try to extract him without being noticed."

The major shook his head. "From that place? I doubt that's possible, doc. It seems to be pretty well guarded to me."

"Yes, I know that but let's make sure he's not being held in the mine or some other location before we act, shall we?" Fiddling with a few controls, Rodney unnecessarily announced. "Switching on the LSD."

They all turned to look at the HUD. There were plenty of life signs showing on the display and then a faint signal registered as Sheppard's subcutaneous transmitter. Much to their relief, it wasn't coming from within the fortress.

-SGA-

It was still drizzling, making the rocks and stones extremely slippery to walk on. John stumbled from time to time while he kept his eyes fixed on Karakus.

The monstrous man was still flapping, almost panicking while he attempted to lift the awkward gun and take aim. Eventually, Karakus managed to control the gun and John watched in slow motion as the thing went off with a loud report, which caused Karakus's oversized body to momentary jerked backwards from the recoil.

John instantly threw himself to one side but not quick enough to avoid some of the shot slamming into his shoulder. High on adrenaline and endorphins, he hardly felt a thing. He knew he'd pay for it later, if he survived. Staggering to his feet, John had to move quickly before Karakus had a chance to reload. Thankfully, the gun seemed to be a single shot affair.

John was only thankful that the slavers hadn't taken it into their heads to sell his P90 to the grotesque overlord. Against that weapon, he wouldn't have stood a chance. No doubt, they had kept his and Rodney's weapons for themselves.

Seeing that his shot had failed to kill the unruly slave, Karakus really began to really panic. Once again, he fumbled to reload the ungainly weapon while his dutiful slaves all stood behind their master looking very hesitant and confused. John hoped that they would stay where they were but unfortunately, as he began to move closer, it looked like some of them were prepared to defend their master.

That was until a female voice suddenly rang out. "It is time to free yourselves!" Distracted for a moment, everyone turned to see Sirena emerge from the woods.

"My god, woman! What the hell are you doing here?!" Karakus shouted. "I will have you thrown in the dungeon and put in chains for this."

"I am here to see justice done and to save a good man," replied Sirena, calmly. "Your reign of terror is at an end Karakus. But that is up to you, my fellow slaves. Are you going to let him continue to give you no peace?"

The slaves threw uncertain looks at each other, still unsure about what to do. Sirena continued to plead with them, urging them to rebel.

Karakus was sweating hard now, his face red and puffy. He pulled nervously at his collar because he knew very well that he was hopelessly outnumbered if his slaves decided to act against him.

Holding his gun steady, he took a step back, putting him dangerously close to the drop off. Somehow, during Sirena's pleas, he had managed to reload his gun. However, he seemed to have forgotten all about John as he took aim at what he saw as a new threat - Sirena.

John saw it and acted on instinct. Holding one of the knives steady, he sprinted forward to slam himself bodily into the obnoxious man. The gun discharged harmlessly into the air when the master's aim was sidetracked by the force of John's weight, but because he was so colossal, Karakus hardly budged from the spot. John, however, fell hard to land uncomfortably close to the drop off. Seeing the threat, he quickly scrambled to safety before he could fall over the edge.

Due to his massive bulk, Karakus didn't even realise that he'd been injured until he felt a small stab of pain. Surprised, he looked down to see a knife embedded about half way up his chest on the right hand side. Pushing it off as no real consequence, he began roaring and stomping about furiously while attempting to hit John with the butt of his weapon.

Suddenly, a soft rumbling sound echoed across the ridge. It was followed by an ominous crack as part of the cliff began to crumble away. Karakus froze for a second when he realised what was about to happen. Then in total panic, he quickly turned towards the camp, but before he could take one-step, the ground beneath his feet suddenly disappeared from under him.

Collapsing onto his belly, Karakus started to slide towards the edge. Desperate, he frantically reached out to scramble for a secure hold among the loose stones and dirt but his short plump fingers found nothing to grip.

John was fighting his own battle when the rockslide threatened to gather up his battered body. He frantically searched for his own handhold. Luckily, he quickly found a strong protruding root to grab. Winded and trembling, he rested for a few seconds to regain his breath, and although he was very weak and exhausted, he slowly attempted to pull himself up and away from the crumbling edge with both hands holding onto the root.

Just to the side of John, Karakus was losing his battle as nothing he did was halting his slow progress over the side. With one last evil act and the need to take the unruly slave with him, Karakus made a desperate lunge for John's dangling chain. His first attempt failed, so he tried again. Then at the last second, his hand closed over the chain and he yanked it forcibly before letting his body fall to its doom.

John suddenly felt himself violently pulled and he nearly lost his precious hold on the root. Hastily, he fought to free himself by kicking at the hand that was holding the chain. However, nothing seemed to shift the weight and the slave collar began to bite painfully into his neck, threatening to strangle him as it cut off his air.

With a sinking feeling, John felt his hands slipping through the root as the dangling burden became too much to bear. With nothing to stop him, the cliff edge came rushing up and his body was launched into thin air.

In the distance, John thought he heard a woman's scream but his world was closing down rapidly as the darkness rushed up to take him and he knew no more.

Tbc

_Sorry about the evil cliffy but I won't keep you waiting for the next part. _


	11. Chapter 11

As promised the next part of the story delivered as quickly as possible. Please excuse any medical mistakes. I am not a doctor.

The Price of Freedom – Part 11

Sirena stood frozen to the spot while her screams and cries echoed across the valley. The master was dead but so was John. It had all happened so quickly. _One minute, John had seemed secure, but then the sadistic master had grabbed his chain in the last second … and … and,_ her thoughts stopped there. Unable to stand any longer, Sirena sank to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably.

Eventually choking back her tears, she gathered her courage and rose to make her way carefully to a more secure place to look over the edge of the ridge. Hesitantly, she lowered her eyes to see the master lying face up across a stony bed. From the odd angle of his neck, she knew that he was dead.

With difficulty, she let her eyes shift to John and the tears threatened to return when she saw him. He looked like a small broken bird, lying not far from the master, who still had the wretched chain clenched tightly in his hand. John's body had landed, face down, on a large sandy embankment mere centimetres from a small shallow stream.

Tearing her eyes away from the heartbreaking sight, she took a deep breath and carefully stepped back, away from the cliff. She had no idea what to do next. Looking around, she noted that the other slaves had all run off, maybe back to the fortress to get help, and Sirena vaguely wondered what had happened to Halden and the other guard because they were nowhere in sight.

However, her concern quickly turned back to John because Sirena knew the minute the guards arrived, they would recover the master's body but John would be left to rot where he lay or mutilated out of the need for retribution. Sirena knew that she couldn't let that happen. Although, she had no idea how to stop it but somehow, she had to try and move him.

Plucking up courage that she didn't feel, she started to search for a way down. However before she'd hardly had a chance to move, a strange humming sound filled the air and a weird flying vehicle appeared directly before her, almost frightening her to death.

-SGA-

"I'm telling you this is the place." Rodney announced as Major Lorne flew the jumper towards the ridge.

Teyla looked out of the viewscreen. "I do not see the Colonel anywhere. However, there is a very distressed looking woman standing down there."

Ronon came up beside her to look out. "Are you sure he wasn't among those other life signs we detected running towards the fortress or the woods?"

"Yes, positive," Rodney answered, not bothering to hide his exasperation. "His signal is still in this area.

"Anyway, it's too late now, folks," Lorne announced from the pilot seat, "I'm just about to land and de-cloak."

Rodney felt mildly agitated during the landing and his mood didn't improve even when he felt a gentle thump as the jumper settled. He hadn't had time to remove his disguise yet, but despite looking like an old man, he pushed his way to the back of the jumper the second the hatch was lowered.

"Okay, folks. Let's go find our man," he announced, before aiming straight for the petrified woman.

Teyla and Ronon exchanged a look. "He is just anxious." Teyla observed.

The others managed to catch-up with McKay just as he stopped before a terrified Sirena. Although, she bravely kept her ground and made no move to flee.

"Err … hi, I'm Dr. Rodney McKay, I wonder if you could help us? We're looking for a friend. He's about half a head taller than me, with dark messy hair and---"

"John Sheppard?" Sirena interrupted.

"Yes, yes, that's right."

Teyla went cold when she noticed the woman's eyes cloud with tears. "Do you know where he is?" she gently asked.

Sirena put a hand to her mouth and lowered her head before she nodded and let her gaze drift towards the edge of the cliff.

Ronon was the first to react as he quickly headed towards the drop off.

"Be careful, Ronon!" Lorne shouted. "The edge doesn't look too stable to me."

However, Ronon hadn't been a runner for nothing. He wasn't stupid enough to go bounding up to the edge without checking the ground first. By the time, he'd made sure that the ground was firm enough to support him, the others had joined him. What they saw made their hearts leap into their throats when they looked over the edge.

"Oh crap!" Rodney exclaimed before turning away.

Carson nodded after tearing his eyes away. "Aye, ya can say that again. We need to get down there as quick as possible. There's a small chance that he could still be alive."

"Are you kidding?" Rodney shouted in distress. "How can anyone survive that fall?"

"Aye, I know it's a long shot but I don't think the cliff is as high as it looks and he seems to have landed on soft ground, so we have to check and the longer we leave it, the less chance there's likely be."

Lorne spoke up for the first time. "I'm with you there, doc. Let's get the Jumper up and I'll try to land---," he stopped for a minute to survey the land, "over there," he finished, pointing to a small clearing on the other side of the stream.

Ronon, Teyla and the Marines were already heading for the jumper, the others had to hurry to catch up.

When they got to the hatchway, Teyla gently called to Sirena. "Do you want to come with us? We are going down to help the Colonel."

For a minute, Sirena looked confused until she realised that the young woman was talking about John. With a nod, she hurried over and bravely stepped into the strange vehicle. She tired not to show any real fear as Teyla showed her to a seat.

Seconds later, the Ancient vehicle lifted into the air with great haste and within a matter of minutes, it landed again with a slight lurch.

Sirena stayed well out of the way, as John's people rushed down the open hatchway towards him.

-SGA-

Ronon was first on the scene after his mad dash through the stream. His legs were soaking wet but he didn't care. He stood still and looked down at John's still form, suppressing the desire to turn him over and check for signs of life. However, commonsense told him to leave that to Beckett.

A minute or so later, Carson huffed up to his side. "After I check for a pulse, we need to proceed with the utmost caution as there's no telling what for injuries he many have incurred," he told the others. Everyone looked grim, as they all knew that checking for a pulse was the first big hurdle.

Dropping to his knees, Carson quickly moved to John's side. He gently brushed away the sand and dirt that partially covered his friend's neck and cursed in Gaelic before switching to English. "What the bugger is this?" he complained, pointing to the strong metal collar and chain.

Rodney swallowed hard. "Well, he was a slave, Carson."

Carson made a disgusted face. "Aye and this is certainly proof of that. God what have they done to ya, lad?" he muttered, before feeling for a pulse. At first, he couldn't find one, so he moved his hand slightly, then a faint flutter vibrated under his finger and he cursed the collar again. "Okay, I've found a pulse, it's not very strong. I'd like to get a neck support on him before I try to turn him over but this damn collar is in the way."

Everyone looked relieved that John was still alive but no one had an answer to the collar problem until Ronon growled. "Maybe that fat individual has the key?"

All heads turned towards the other body.

"I wonder who he was?" asked Lorne.

"The Master." Sirena murmured from where she stood staring down at John. "And he would have the key."

Before anyone could really react, Ronon hastily grabbed John's neck chain. With one swift tug, he yanked it out of the dead man's hand before moving over to the body to recover the key.

A few minutes later, Ronon announced, "He's definitely dead!" before quickly passing the key to Carson. No one seemed to care or react as he bent down to help the doctor carefully remove the collar.

After tossing the chain and slave collar aside with revulsion, Carson quickly fished inside his case and produced a cervical collar, which he carefully eased around John's neck before examining his back. Using the small Ancient scanner, Carson quickly ran it down John's spine. Thankfully, nothing appeared to be damaged. So grabbing his stethoscope, the doctor listened to John's heart and lungs. Although he didn't like what he heard, Carson knew that he had to risk turning John over to expose other more likely damage.

Looking up at the sea of worried faces standing over him, he said. "Okay, someone needs to go back to the Jumper and bring the portable backboard. Then we'll carefully roll him over onto it."

The backboard was produced in record time and with help, Carson gently eased Sheppard onto his back. Shocked gasps and cries filled the air as the true extent of John's injuries was revealed.

Teyla turned pale as tears formed in her eyes and Rodney looked like he might be sick. Major Lorne winced and turned away from his CO, unable to look anymore. Ronon, predicable as ever, gritted his teeth and growled at the sight of his friend's blood soaked clothing.

Carson was the only one who told himself to remain calm as he quickly unlocked and removed the wrist manacles and the connecting chain before starting his examination. He made a mental note of the severe abrasion on John's wrists and the state of his bare feet before carefully cutting the tunic top open. Pulling it back, Carson expected to see some horrendous injuries beneath, and although there were plenty, they certainly didn't account for all the blood on his clothing.

"All right," he called. "I need someone to assist me while I check over his injuries."

Rodney didn't budge neither did Ronon or Major Lorne. Teyla was just about to move over to Beckett when a slim hand landed on her arm. "I will help the doctor," Sirena told her. "I have cared for him before." Teyla nodded her thanks as seeing John so badly injured was proving very hard for her to take.

Carson acknowledged Sirena's help with a nod before introducing himself. "I'm Dr. Beckett. Now would ya kindly hold this scanner for me while I see what's broken?"

Sirena knelt by Carson's side and took the instrument from him. She looked at John with sad eyes before murmuring. "My name is Sirena Alva. I thought he was dead for sure."

Carson spared a moment to glance up at the cliff face. "Aye, Sirena, if he'd landed on the rocks, then he would be. But we're talking about John Sheppard and if anyone could survive, it would be him."

With his attention drawn back to his patient, Carson spoke aloud when he started to make note of John's injuries. "There's severe generalised bruising, lacerations and malnourishment. A nasty break in the collar bone by the looks of things and he appears to have been shot in the shoulder with some type of metal pellets."

Carson moved on to John's arms and quickly cut away the bloody sleeve for the left one. He winced at the ugly sight of a bone protruding through the skin of John's upper arm. The wound was still oozing blood, meaning it was an ideal site for infection. "He has a compound fracture of the humerus of the left arm. I'll need to deal with that once we get back to Atlantis."

Sirena turned to look directly at the Carson and shot him a shocked look at the mention of the Ancient city but she didn't say anything to distract the doctor as he continued.

"His other arm appears to have no breaks only severe bruising and abrasion." Moving down to John's legs, he was satisfied that they appeared to have also miraculously survived without a break. Then requesting the Ancient instrument from Sirena, Carson began to scan John's slender frame. "Oh, bloody hell!" he suddenly shouted, "There's extensive internal bleeding. We need to get him home, fast!"

Those words brought the team out of their shock and with great haste, they moved into action as Carson and Sirena quickly stood aside. Without having to say a word, Ronon and Lorne carefully lifted the backboard and headed for the jumper as Carson hastily packed up his equipment and followed them. Teyla watched him go before ushering Sirena towards the jumper, leaving Rodney to take up the rear.

McKay hurried behind them. He'd been unusually quiet since finding Sheppard and as he watched his battered friend being hastily taken into the jumper, his guilt overwhelmed him. He shouldn't have left John to the mercy of the sadistic overlord, but what could he have done to prevent it.

The sound of automatic gunfire suddenly jolted him out of his guilt trip and a hail of bullets peppered the ground just behind him. Without any urging, Rodney bolted for the jumper as the Marines opened fire on the unseen assailant.

"That sounded like a P90!" Rodney shouted as he rushed into the jumper.

Lorne was already powering up but he spared a moment to answer. "Yeah, there seems to be several men up on the ridge and one of them seems to have our weapon." Pausing for a minute, his hand hovered over the hatch control. "Okay! We're out of here. Everyone onboard!" he shouted.

As the last marine rushed into the rear compartment, Lorne turned the shield on and took them airborne.

Gunfire continued to hit the shield as they flew towards the top of the ridge. McKay moved up front and peered out of the viewscreen to study their assailants. "You see the one with our gun that's a no good slaver called Tarmas, I don't know who the others are."

"Probably the Master's guards," answered Sirena, when she moved around McKay to take a quick glance out of the viewscreen.

"All right, let's blast them then!"

"Rodney, we cannot do that." Teyla called from her seat.

"Oh, yes we can or those poor people over there are going to get nailed." Rodney said, pointing out of the view port even though Teyla couldn't see from where she sat.

Sirena glanced out again and put a hand over her mouth in shock. "Oh, my goodness, the slaves are rebelling."

Lorne turned to her. "Then I think we need to get rid of the P90 shooter at the very least."

From his place near Sheppard who had been placed on the rear right-hand bench, Carson called out. "I hate to remind ya, but we need to get going."

"Give us just a few seconds, doc!" Lorne shouted back. "I'm sure the Colonel would what that."

Resigned, Carson simply replied. "Aye."

True to his promise, the major quickly sent a drone towards the slaver. It was over in seconds. "I hope that gives the slaves a fighting chance." Lorne commented, before cloaking the jumper and heading for the Stargate. No one answered as they all sat in thoughtful silence.

In the rear compartment, Carson worked calmly to finish attaching several fluid and drug giving IV's to his patient's uninjured arm. When that was done, he checked John over once more. He wasn't very happy with what he found so calling to the others, he shouted. "We need to contact Atlantis as soon as we can! The Colonel is not fairing too well and I need them to prep the OR and have a full team on standby!"

Lorne called from his seat. "Okay, doc. As soon as we near the gate, I'll dial up and tell them."

"Don't do it too early, Major," warned Rodney.

"No, we're going to have to time this one just right."

The tension in the jumper grew as they sped towards the Stargate. Teyla threw a worried look in Ronon's direction. He looked unusually pale and tense but she knew what John meant to him. Sirena had come back to sit near her. She also looked drawn and ashen. Teyla tried to give her a reassuring smile but it didn't come out quite as she intended.

Deep in thought, she nearly jumped out of her skin when Carson suddenly announced. "Oh bugger it! I'm going to have to intubate and insert a chest drain! Teyla love, could ya please come here and assist me?"

With her early reservation gone, Teyla quickly moved to stand near John's head being careful not to disrupt the IV lines snaking from his body. She watched as Carson tilted the Colonel's head back and expertly inserted the laryngoscope and tube. A few minutes later, he had an Ambu bag fitted and requested. "Could ya keep squeezing it at regular intervals, love?"

Teyla nodded, she knew what to do as she'd seen it done before. Calmly pressing the bag to give her friend and leader life saving air, she observed as Carson prepared to insert a tube directly into John's chest. She wasn't normally squeamish but the sight of Carson cutting the hole for the tube and all the resulting blood made her stomach turn.

Finding some inner strength, she quickly swallowed back the feeling as Carson finished up. He checked John's stats once again and although he didn't say anything, his eyes said it all. The quicker they got home, the better.

Up in the pilot's seat, Lorne concentrated as the Stargate came into view at last. All looked peaceful down below with just the usual two sentries on duty. They were standing a little away from the DHD but Lorne knew that their biggest problem would be keeping them away from it and preventing them from shutting down the wormhole before they could get through.

Then an idea began to form in Lorne's head. "What do you say we give them a little distraction?"

In typical Rodney style, the scientist replied. "Yes, yes, I was just going to say that."

Lorne sighed and concentrated on shooting a drone into the nearby countryside. He prayed that the resulting explosion would distract both sentries away from the gate.

As the plume of fire and smoke rose into the air, those at the front of the jumper let out a sigh of relief when both guards broke off to investigate.

"Okay, let's dial up the gate and contact Atlantis." Lorne ordered.

Rodney wasted no time in punching in the address and sending through his IDC. "This is Jumper five! We're coming in with a medical emergency. Beckett wants the OR prepped and a full team on standby."

"Understood." Chuck answered him, efficiently.

In no time at all, they rushed towards the gate and within seconds, Lorne expertly flew the jumper into the event horizon.

tbc

_Thanks for 100 incredible reviews. Please keep them coming. _


	12. Chapter 12

The Price of Freedom – Part 12

With her arms wrapped nervously around her waist, Elizabeth anxiously waited for the jumper's arrival as she stood overlooking the gate. Rodney had made no indication as to who needed the emergency care but after nearly three years in Atlantis, she could hazard a guess - John. _Were they bringing him home after nearly six weeks? But in what state?_ She could only hope that it wasn't as bad as Rodney had made it sound.

With no more time for further contemplation, she quickly moved towards the stairs as the jumper rushed into the gateroom and started its ascent towards the hanger above.

By the time Elizabeth arrived, the hatchway was already down and a gurney stood waiting at the bottom. She remained outside, unwilling to get in the way as Ronon and one of Carson's team emerged carrying a backboard bearing a covered figure, which they carefully placed on the gurney. She could see from the hair that it was John, but he was hardly recognisable. Teyla stood near his head pumping an Ambu bag, looking tired and concerned.

Carson quickly moved down the ramp and threw Elizabeth a look, as if to say, "We'll talk later," before he and several assistants prepared to move the gurney.

"Teyla, love, we're going to attach a portable ventilator, so you can stop pumping now." Carson told her.

Teyla managed to look both relieved and disappointed at the same time as she moved away to stand with the others. She stood in silence and watched as the medical personnel move off with great speed.

Once the gurney was out of sight, Elizabeth turned to the rescue team. "How bad is it?"

The team looked grim as Rodney answered for them. "Bad, very bad. He fell from a cliff but luckily landed on some soft ground, otherwise---" He couldn't say more, which gave Elizabeth a sign of just how serious it really was.

Elizabeth simply nodded. "All right, why don't you all go and get cleaned-up before reporting to the infirmary for your post mission check-up. Oh, and Major Lorne, Colonel Caldwell will want a full report after your check-up."

Evan looked like he'd rather not before replying. "Yes, ma'am."

Sirena came down the ramp looking absolutely lost and bewildered. She stayed near the jumper, looking around the bay with a measure of fear and confusion.

Seeing her distress, Teyla moved over to the former slave to place a reassuring hand on her arm. Then turning to Elizabeth, she said. "Dr. Weir, this is Sirena. She helped Colonel Sheppard during his enslavement and assisted in his rescue."

Elizabeth moved over and took the older woman's hand warmly. "Then thank you very much. I'm Doctor Elizabeth Weir and on behalf of all our people, I welcome you to Atlantis. While I am sure that you are very tired and distressed after today's ordeal, it is required that all visitors have a medical check-up. So I'll take you to the infirmary myself in a minute and if everything checks out all right, then we'll find a room for you."

Sirena looked a little apprehensive but she nodded her thanks. Nevertheless, it was plain to see that the surroundings were still overwhelming her.

-SGA-

In the quiet corridors of the Ancient city, nothing stirred as Atlantis slept. However, in one lone part, the lights still shone brightly as people worked relentlessly to save a life while others waited patiently for news concerning that life. Well, as patiently as Rodney McKay could wait.

He checked his watch. "What's taking them so long?" he asked for the umpteenth time.

Everyone sighed. They'd been over this ground several times before. "I am sure Dr. Beckett will let us know as soon as there is any news." Teyla tried to reassure him.

"Yes, I know, but it's been nearly five hours."

Elizabeth looked over and gave him a slight smile. She had all the facts by now, as they had debriefed her while they waited. She didn't like to say anything that would put their hopes up too high, but a little optimism was needed. "You know what they say, Rodney, no news is good news, and the fact that it has been so long means he must be still alive and fighting."

Rodney tried to put on a brave face, but he just wasn't any good at the waiting game. Never had been, even as a child. He desperately needed a distraction, although the thought of going to his lab and trying to work was out of the question. How long had it been since he'd seen his lab anyway? Seven weeks? A horrible thought suddenly stuck him. _What if Radek had altered things or worse still, deleted some of his work?_

Those thoughts brought on a sudden obsessive feeling and Rodney felt an urgent need to go and check - right there and then. He intended to move, but that was ridiculous as while he was gone Carson could come and tell them that Sheppard was … that Sheppard was dead. No, he had to stay, so he forced himself to sit still and wait. Well, at least for the next hour or so.

Teyla felt herself drifting towards a light doze, it had been a long day. However, restful sleep was a long way off. Not only because of the uncomfortable chair, but also because she just couldn't get the image of John's battered body out of her mind. She'd seen him beaten, bruised, bleeding or ill many times before but this time there was something haunting about his appearance as she'd never seen anyone so destroyed. She asked herself what kind of people could do such a thing and she prayed that the slaves they had seen fighting had survived. Her thoughts turned to Sirena. Dr. Cole had done the initial medical but she hadn't been very pleased with the state the older woman was in. So on her advice, Sirena had been admitted for further observation and treatment. The last time Teyla had checked, Sirena had been comfortably tucked up in bed, fast asleep.

A loud snore from Ronon's direction jolted Rodney out of his light doze. He checked his watch again and did a double take. _That can't be right_, he thought. Another two hours seemed to have passed making seven in all. He squirmed and shifted his right leg that had gone to sleep, which sent pins and needles shooting up the limb. When the discomfort died down, Rodney realised that he was thirsty, tired and unbelievably uncomfortable. Oh and hungry too. _That's it,_ Rodney thought, _I need to go and find something to eat before my hyperglycaemia sets in. _Of course, as is inevitably the case, the minute Rodney started to move out of his chair, a tired and serious looking Carson Beckett walked in.

Carson immediately sank into a chair to look earnestly at the sea of worried faces around him. He sighed and rubbed his bloodshot eyes before talking. "Okay, he's still with us, just about. You're probably wondering what took so long. Well, we had some difficulty locating and stopping several serious bleeders. There was also severe bruising to the liver and spleen. Luckily, I was able to save the spleen. After that, we had to remove quite of lot of nasty shot from his shoulder. We then set his broken arm and stabilised his broken collarbone. He has several broken ribs and hairline fractures in five other ribs as well as one in his foot and the lower fibula of his left leg. There is extensive bruising and laceration all over his body, most of which must have occurred at an earlier date." Carson paused for a minute to catch his breath. He decided not to say anymore on that subject but from the look of the others gave him; Carson knew that they understood the implications.

When he continued his report, he went back to the injuries caused by the fall. "Strangely, all the major damage was located on his right hand side. There's fresh bruising down that side and even an indentation made by one of the chains. It's as if he landed hard on his right side before bouncing off onto the sandbank. That probably broke the left arm. One of the broken ribs punctured a lung causing even more damaged to his already congested respiratory system. As you already know, that lung collapsed during the flight back home but the chest drain I inserted has rectified the problem."

Carson paused again to look even grimmer, if that was possible. "While I was setting his arm, he crashed on us and I was forced to---. Well, ya know the procedure by now. We got him back but his stats aren't---"

Carson stopped there and sighed loudly before giving them another serious look. "I'm not going to lie to ya, if he makes it through the next 24 hours, then he's in with a chance. He has a very high fever, which I suspect was present even before whatever happened to cause the fall. He lost a lot of blood during the operation and he wasn't in very good health to begin with, so if he makes it, then he's in for a long haul.

Everyone remained silent, taking in the news. Eventually, Rodney asked what they all probably wanted to know. "Is it possible to see him?"

Carson had been waiting for the question. He really shouldn't let them but how could he deny it when John may not survive through the night. "Ya can visit for a very short time, and I mean short. He's under constant surveillance not only by machines but I have a doctor and a nurse watching over him at the moment, that's just how poorly he is. Ya can come in two at a time and stay for no more than a few minutes." Throwing a warning look towards McKay, he continued. "I'd also appreciate it if ya didn't disturb the other patients, especially Sirena. She's been through a lot and needs her rest."

Everyone nodded solemnly before deciding who would go first.

-SGA-

Sirena woke to the sight and sounds of a very strange place. For a few minutes, she didn't know where she was, so she closed her eyes and concentrated until her mind cleared enough for her memory to return. When the realization of where she was finally came to her, she allowed her senses to focus on the strange sound that had probably woken her. Off in the distance someone was shouting the word, "**clear!**" just before a whining sound ended with a loud clunk. The sound worried her and although she felt as weak as a newborn Teekie, Sirena felt compelled to investigate. So slipping from her bed, she moved towards to the noise.

A minute later, she entered a small side room and paused while she took in the scene before her. The kindly doctor she remembered from before was standing by a bed holding some very strange looking objects, while several others stood nearby busy doing unidentifiable things to various weird looking contraptions and bleeping boxes.

Sirena couldn't see who was on the bed until one of the people moved out of her line of vision. _John _… it was John. He looked so pale, so fragile and ill, it nearly broke her heart.

Instinctively, Sirena know that she mustn't interrupt, so she stood well away and watched them work. She had no idea what they were doing to John but somehow it looked vital in saving his life.

A few noisy minutes went by before the weary looking doctor turned to the others and sighed. "That was close." The other people looked grim and nodded in agreement, as they tidied up the equipment and moved it out of the way.

Sirena gave a little cough and inched closer, finally catching Carson's attention. "What are ya doing up, my dear?"

Sirena didn't reply, she simply stared at John. To her he still looked a moment from death. Carson watched as she walked over to his bed to place a hand upon his fever soaked brow.

She stroked it lightly and murmured. "Do not let Karakus win, John. He deliberately pulled you down with the intent of dragging you into death with him. You must fight it, fight it with all the strength that I know you have within you." Saying no more, she bowed her head and placed her hand over John's heart as if in prayer.

After a few minutes of silence, she turned tear-filled eyes towards Carson. "He always stood up to him and tried so hard not to become a slave to that awful man."

"Aye, the Colonel has an inner strength that always astounds me. But you, my dear, should go back to ya bed now. It's still very early in the morning."

Sirena nodded in agreement before asking. "What are his chances?"

Carson didn't what to upset the sweet lady but she deserved to know the truth. "He's gravely ill and the way things are at present, I have to say, not good. We nearly lost him a few minutes ago and I really don't know how much longer his heart can take the strain of having to fight such a high fever as well as coping with the countless injuries." Carson stopped to squeeze her hand and looked earnestly into her eyes. "But as I said before, John Sheppard is a fighter and I'm sure he'll give it his best."

Sirena looked up at him and smiled slightly. "Thank you for being honest." With one last glance towards John, she went back to her bed.

-SGA-

Sirena must have slept for hours because the next time she woke, the large room was lighter and there were more people about. Carefully sitting up, she glanced towards John's room before slipping from her bed unnoticed. Arriving in his room a minute later, she noted that the contraptions were still all there but the bed was gone. Her knees suddenly felt weak and a lump constricted her throat. She wanted to call out but no sound came. Overwhelmed, she buried her face in her hands, gave into her tears and wept.

Elizabeth heard the sound of sobbing from her position near Carson's office, so she decided to investigate. The sound led her towards John's room and entering, she swallowed her shock at seeing the ex-slave obliviously deeply distressed. Gently moving over to her, Elizabeth placed a hand on her arm. "Sirena?"

Sirena looked up into the eyes of the dark haired woman and gulped back a sob. "I am so sorry, I---" But she couldn't say more as her voice broke and the tears threatened to return.

Elizabeth looked puzzled at the woman, wondering what was wrong. Then she glanced at the empty space and it dawned on her as Beckett had told her about last night.

"Sirena," she called gently, "John is still alive." She stopped to take the woman's hand. "He has been moved into another area for a scan. They should be bringing him back here anytime soon. He was showing a slight improvement. Although it is still far too early to say how things will turn out, but at least he hasn't suffered anymore crashes." Sirena looked relieved but mystified, so Elizabeth elaborated, "Heart failure."

"Is that what happened last night and what is this scan?"

"Well, to answer your questions. John's heart did stop last night but we have a machine called a defibrillator that can help restart it again. A scan is done with another machine that can see inside the body. Dr. Beckett wanted to check that there wasn't any reoccurrence of the internal bleeding. He was a little concerned about something and wanted to be a hundred percent sure." Elizabeth didn't like to say that if John needed further surgery, he was highly unlikely to survive it. She didn't think Sirena could handle that right now.

The older woman nodded gratefully before saying. "You have so many wondrous things here. Is this really the great legendary city of Atlantis?"

Elizabeth brightened a little as she began to talk about her favourite subject. "It most certainly is. The Ancients abandoned it at the bottom of the sea when they were overwhelmed by the Wraith. We found it nearly intact when we arrived a few years ago through the Stargate from a place called Earth." Elizabeth paused there when she thought Sirena had heard enough about Atlantis for now. "When you're feeling little stronger someone will show you around but before that I'd like to know a little about you and what happen to Colonel Sheppard while he was held captive by the man you called … err … Karakus?"

Sirena nodded and started to relate her story but Elizabeth quickly stopped her. "Oh, I didn't mean right now. Firstly, you need to go back to your bed and have some breakfast. Then I am sure that Dr. Cole will want to check you over again. Maybe, I can come by later and we can talk?"

"Yes, of course and thank you."

"You're welcome. Now let's see you back to your bed."

Elizabeth stayed with Sirena until she was safely back her in bed. She was just about to turn away and leave the infirmary when an assistant waved her over, so she quickly moved towards him.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Dr Weir, but Dr Beckett asked me to tell you that he's had to go back into surgery with the Colonel."

Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face before she nodded her thanks.

Tbc


	13. Chapter 13

The Price of Freedom – Part 13

The cool breeze ruffled his hair, not that he had so much to ruffle. _Well, not as much as---._ Rodney let his thoughts stop there as he positioned his paper plane and sent it soaring up into the air.

It didn't fly far before taking a dive into the sea. The sight of it sinking into the waves sent a small shudder through his frame, as memories of the time he'd crashed in the jumper came to mind. He'd been lucky, lucky to have friends that cared enough to risk their lives to rescue him. _And_ _now one of those friends was---?_

Quickly blocking that thought, Rodney grabbed another sheet of paper and folded a second plane. He was preparing to launch it high into the air, when he heard the distinctive whoosh of the door opening. He didn't turn to see who it was.

"Rodney?" Questioned a soft feminine voice.

He launched the plane and turned to face his boss. "I ... I needed some fresh air."

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. "Yes." She moved to stand by his side. "Carson came and joined us just after you left."

Rodney turned back towards to sea as his heart started to hammer wildly. He really didn't want to hear this.

Elizabeth sensed his distress and lightly placed a hand on his arm. "John is still with us," she whispered. "He's holding on by the skin of his teeth but you know how darn stubborn he is."

Rodney swallowed hard with relief and nodded. "What's the prognosis?"

"Carson is optimistic. The operation went better than expected and he was able to stem the small haemorrhage quicker than he thought. He said that as John has survived this long, then … then maybe he'll pull through."

Rodney remained silent. He didn't seem convinced.

"Come on, Rodney, there was nothing more you could have done. I know you feel responsible but if you had gone against that tyrant and his guards, you wouldn't have stood a chance. Sirena has told me everything about that awful man and he certainly deserved what happened to him."

"Yes, I know but I should have worked quicker to get back to Atlantis."

"You know that wasn't possible. It's a miracle that you made it back at all." Elizabeth reminded him. "Anyway, getting away from that, Colonel Caldwell has suggested that we send a MALP through tomorrow to try and determine what the situation is like on Tandara. I agree with him as I think we owe it to the people you befriended and Sirena's fellow slaves to try and find out."

Rodney nodded. "Yes, and I'd like to be there when we do it because you'll need my expert help."

Elizabeth smiled, now that sounded a bit more like the Rodney McKay she knew so well.

-SGA-

A bright shaft of light streamed through the beautiful window, marking the beginning of a new day. Sirena smile at the wonderful sight and stretched her rested body before slipping out of bed. Putting on some comfortable slippers, she quietly tiptoed towards John's room so as not to wake the few other patients scattered around the infirmary.

This had been her daily routine for nearly a week now because the kindly doctors still hadn't released her from this place. They kept telling her that she still needed more rest and recuperation. Sirena was a little baffled by their insistence because she was feeling stronger and healthier than she had done for years.

Upon reaching her destination, she smiled lightly at the beautiful dark skinned woman sitting by John's bed. There was always one of them here. One of his team keeping a watch over the man they so obliviously loved.

"How was his night?" Sirena enquired.

"Much improved," Teyla was able to report. "Dr. Cole thinks he may wakeup soon."

"Oh, that is good to hear," Sirena whispered before moving to brush away a stray stand of hair from John's brow. She noted that he wasn't so hot anymore and that his complexion was no longer so drawn and grey. The doctors had moved the dreadful breathing tube yesterday making him look more human again. He still had the strange little tube under his nose but they had explained that it was giving him extra rich air, which he apparently still needed.

Teyla smiled at the sight of the woman mothering John as she always did. She knew how much she had helped him and Teyla was grateful. "Now that you are here, I will leave you to watch over him for a few minutes while I go and fetch my morning tea. Would you like a cup?"

"I would love one. Thank you Teyla."

When Teyla went out of the room, Sirena settled into the warm seat that she had just vacated. Gently taking John's hand, she spoke to him softly even though he wouldn't hear her. "I told you were special. Your actions seemed to have caused quite a stir on Tandara. Killing Karakus has encouraged the good people to act against slavery. The lovely Dr. Weir told me yesterday that the slavers have fled in fear and that progress is being made to get rid of the slavery altogether. Dr. Weir has been in negotiations with several---." Sirena stopped because she thought she felt John's hand move under hers.

John slowly came awake and he vaguely wondered why he was still alive. The last thing he remembered was a dreadful feeling of helplessness and desperation as his body started its sickening downward plunge.

Now he felt strangely detached from his surroundings but the voice he heard was familiar. He struggled to put a name to it. Sirena eventually came to mind, the kindly slave who had befriended him. _Did that mean that he was back in the fortress under her care again? _

He attempted to move his right hand but it was being held by another. His other hand appeared to be immobile. That alarmed him, but he didn't have the strength or ability to worry about it right now, so he let himself drift back towards sleep.

A few minutes later, Teyla returned carrying two steaming cups of tea. "Here you are that should warm you up and give you strength for the day," she said as she placed one of the cups near the older woman. Sirena made to move out of the chair but Teyla shook her head and sat herself down on John's bed. "I know the staff do not like it but I will sit here while I have my tea."

Sirena looked at her and smiled. "I think he is not far from waking. I felt his hand move."

Teyla smiled. "That is good. Maybe I should go and find Dr. Beckett. He wanted to know the moment John showed any signs of coming around." Sirena nodded before turning her attention back to John.

Some minutes went by before Teyla returned with a smiling and cheerful Carson in tow. "Good morning, my dear, and how are ya feeling today?"

Sirena looked up at him and gulped back a sob; she had never been treated so kindly before. It was taking some getting used to. "I am fine thank you and I will feel even better when this young man finally comes back to us."

"Aye, I'll second that. Although between you and me, that young fella is not as young as he looks." Carson was just about to say that he was slightly younger than the colonel but he changed his mind, as it was unimportant. "Ok, let's see how close he is to waking." Carson announced. Then he produced the dreaded pen light and proceeded to peer into John's eyes. "Come on, son, it's time ya woke up."

John wanted to bat the irritatingly bright light away but his hand was still covered by another, so his only choice was to turn his head away. That didn't work for long as a hand gently forced his head back towards the light. It was followed by a voice that insisted that he open his eyes, so John decided to open them and then maybe the man would leave him in peace.

"That's good," Beckett called when John Sheppard opened his eyes for the first time in a week.

Teyla felt her eyes water as this was truly a sign that John would eventually get better. She smiled brightly as she looked down at him. "Welcome home, John," she murmured softly.

The pesky light was gone but those words left his mind very confused. _If Sirena was here, why did he seem to be home?_ Suddenly, he realised that the voice had been Teyla's and before that Carson's. Therefore, he really was home.

They must have rescued him and Sirena too, which meant he wasn't a slave anymore. _Was his suffering and torment really over?_ he questioned. The thought produced a sudden surge of unaccustomed emotion. He felt overwhelmed by it and tears formed in his eyes. John hadn't cried for years and the embarrassment made him want to wipe them away but he couldn't. Consequently, he turned his head and tried to bury his face in the pillow, hoping that they would leave him alone and go away. However, the comfort of the soft pillow and the wonderful realization that he was finally safe soon had him drifting back towards sleeps comforting embrace.

Teyla and Sirena looked at Carson for an explanation. "He's been through an awful lot, ladies, and he's bound to be emotionally very sensitive at the moment. Even the strongest of people would find it difficult to cope after such an ordeal, especially one so traumatic both physically and mentally. Let him sleep some more and I'm sure the next time he wakes up, he'll feel more like talking." Carson finished with those words, but in the back of his mind, he wasn't so sure how John was really going to cope. He could see Kate Heightmeyer in Sheppard's future but he could almost predict how well that would go down.

Both women nodded in agreement and although they were disappointed, they went back to drinking their tea.

Carson smiled as he went about checking the monitoring machines that were still attached to John. One good thing had come out of the whole ordeal; Teyla had found a friend in Sirena. Therefore, the Athosian was the ideal person to carry out Carson's request. "Teyla, love, I think it's time that Sirena had a bit of fresh air and some exercise, so after ya have finished your tea, maybe ya can find her something to wear. Then after breakfast how about showing her around the city for a while?"

Teyla readily agreed to Carson's suggestion but Sirena wasn't so sure. "What if John wakes up again?"

Carson found it difficult to hide a grin. "Oh, don't worry about that, my dear. I'm sure one of his team will be here and we'll let you know if that happens." She didn't seem certain but went along with it anyway because she was dying to see more of the wonderful city.

-SGA-

"I'm telling you, Carson, it really hurts, so why can't you give me something for it?" Rodney McKay's whiny voice echoed across the infirmary.

"And I'm telling ya that it's nothing more than a wee scratch, so stop being such a baby. Why don't you go and sit with the Colonel for a while."

"What! Oh, that's one way to take my mind off the pain! Go and watch, Mr. I don't want to wake up any time soon, while he sleeps his life away. Boring."

Carson sighed. "Now you know ya don't mean that. You were just as worried about him as the rest of us."

McKay looked slightly guilty. "Yes, I was, but now he's out of the woods why can't he just wake up and talk to me?"

"Rodney, ya know very well that it's not as simple as that. Until a few days ago, he was still at death's door. He's also a tad emotionally traumatised at the moment. That means it's going to take a little while until he's truly with us again."

"I know that, Carson. It's just---." Rodney sighed. "I just want him to know … to understand that I did my best to get him help. I just wish it had been quicker."

"Aye, but it all worked out in the end. The Colonel is still alive and your friends on Tandara are well on the way to abolishing slavery. I think you did pretty well, Rodney."

"Oh come on, I think we all know it was Sheppard killing that slave master or whatever that really got the ball rolling."

Carson started to steer Rodney towards John's room. "I have no doubt it did, but your contribution helped too."

"Yes, I like to think so, but it still doesn't change the fact that Sheppard had to do most of the work."

"Aye, but I still insist that ya did very well and your input was also important."

John could hear Rodney and Carson even before they arrived by his bedside. It was good to know that Rodney was safe. _Maybe he should attempt to open_ _his eyes and tell him_. So, he forced away the drowsiness and lifted his heavy eyelids.

"Well, if you insist. However, I will admit to feeling a little---." Rodney suddenly stopped when Carson tapped his arm to draw his attention to the bed. However, seeing Sheppard awake, Rodney suddenly lost his nerve and made to make a run for it.

Carson sensed it and gave Rodney a warning look before smiling down at his patient. "It's good to see you awake, son. Can ya try to talk for me?"

John blinked up at his Scottish friend before clearing his dry and aching throat. "Water?"

"Aye that I can do. I'll just raise the bed a little and then I'll get you some."

However before Carson could react, Rodney rushed off. He returned a few minutes later with a glass of water and a straw. Carson had already raised the bed, so Rodney quickly passed the glass to him. After thanking him, Carson eased the straw between John's cracked lips.

To John it felt like heaven as the fresh tasting water slipped down his raw throat to quench the thirst that seemed to have been his companion for weeks now. But before he could overdo it, Carson withdrew the straw. "That's enough for now. Are ya in any pain?"

John took a moment to assess how he was feeling. "No, not really. Got me on the good stuff, huh?"

Carson smiled. "Aye, ya need them. You're doing very well and we'll talk about your injuries when you're feeling a little stronger. For now, I'll leave Rodney to talk to ya as I have other patients to attend to." Then turning to leave, Carson warned McKay. "Keep it short and if he goes back to sleep, let him."

"Oh, as if I could wake him up if he did. Hallo, we're talking about sleeping beauty here or have you forgotten." Carson didn't react, so Rodney turned his attention back to John. "Hi," he said with a little wave. "Good to see you looking better."

John cleared his throat and forced back a tear. He certainly didn't want to cry in front of Rodney "I didn't expect to live."

Rodney winced and pulled up a chair to sit himself down by John's bed. "Yes, it was quite a way to fall. Luckily, you bounced off something soft," Rodney chuckled lightly, "We think it could have been that hideous Karakus person. Anyway, you then landed in a sand bank, which cushioned---."

John interrupted him looking very confused. "Really? I don't remember anything after I started to fall." He paused for a moment to get his emotions back in check. "Tell me … you didn't have to work as a slave did you?"

"Oh, no. No, thankfully I didn't." That was the opening that Rodney needed and he began to explain everything that had happened to him, in great detail.

John tried to stay awake but he drifted around the time Rodney was explaining his successful escape. McKay didn't notice at first but when he did and knowing that Sheppard wouldn't hear him, he whispered. "I'm glad you survived - John. Otherwise life would have been very boring."

tbc


	14. Chapter 14

The Price of Freedom – Part 14

It wasn't until four days later that John was able to stay awake for longer periods and with that came the boredom of being confined to the infirmary. Even though he was no longer in intensive care, the main infirmary was still boring because right now, he was their only patient. But at least he had something to look forward to as Carson had promised that if he continued to improve, then they would get him out of bed in a few days time. In the meantime, he was stuck with nothing to do other than sleep because he still didn't have the focus or enthusiasm to read or play Sudoku for longer periods.

John glanced down at his broken arm with its heavy white plaster cast. People had started to scribble messages on it. Rodney had apparently written something cheeky in a place that John couldn't see, meaning he wouldn't be able to read it until the cast had been removed. His damn arm was useless but he supposed he'd been lucky, as Beckett had said that it would heal well in time. Nevertheless, it was going to keep him out of commission for some weeks. Then there was all the other damage and stuff. _Well, it was best not to think about that. _

He hadn't looked in a mirror for weeks and although the nurses kept him shaven and clean, he had a feeling that he still looked pretty scruffy. So overall, he couldn't wait to take a real shower with good shampoo and soap. Maybe, he could persuade Carson to let him have one once the dreaded catheter was gone and he was mobile.

John relaxed and instantly his mind drifted back to Tandara and his time as a slave. He hadn't talked about his experience to the others yet and they hadn't asked him, thinking that he wasn't well enough. His emotions were still at little touchy but John knew that he should try to tell someone about it, if only to clear his mind. However, he hated that sort of thing, so he'd rather forget it ever happened.

_John was back in the mine, with its choking dust burning his lungs. He could see Seth; the kid was having another fit. John moved quickly towards Seth but at the last moment, something blocked his way. It was a solid wall of flesh and it stood between him and the kid. John tried to move around it but the being wouldn't let him. John's anger began to mount. Then he lifted his head to look into the cruellest eyes that he had ever seen and screamed. _

"Steady on, son. Just breathe deeply and relax. That must have been a nasty dream ya were having."

John tried to breathe as Carson instructed but the dust still clogged his throat or at least that's what it felt like. He coughed to clear the tightness in his lungs and eventually his breathing eased. Carson handed him a glass of water, which he readily drank. _Was it really a dream?_ _It felt so real._

His hand trembled slightly as he handed the glass back to Carson. The dream had left him feeling greatly disturbed and John knew that he had to do something about it, so he whispered. "As soon as I'm able, I think I need to write a report."

Carson shook his head, emphatically. "That's not good enough. Ya need to talk to someone about it, John, and I think that someone should be Dr. Heightmeyer. I'll see when she has some time."

John pulled a face and shook his head, not quite so forcibly as Carson as he didn't want to bring on a headache. "No, not Kate. You know how much I hate talking to her. It's nothing personal but … well." He left it at that.

Carson sighed, they'd been through this stage many times before. "John, ya know how important it is to talk these things over and Kate is the best qualified." However, Carson didn't want to push it, therefore he suggested, "But if ya not willing to talk to her, then at least talk to me or Elizabeth or someone of ya choosing."

John remained silent for several minutes as images of his dream still played through his mind. He didn't want to live with them forever so surprisingly, he relented. "All right, I'm willing to tell you, Elizabeth and my team. All of you, together." He paused for a second before plucking up the courage to tell Carson about his dream. "The dream I just had, it seemed so damn real but it couldn't have been. I was back in the mine. A kid called Seth was having a fit. I think he suffers from epilepsy. Anyway, I was trying to reach him but … but I couldn't get there. I was being blocked by someone. The strangest thing was, the person blocking me wasn't Karakus. It was … it was---." John sighed, but he couldn't get it out.

"Come on, son, ya can tell me."

John pulled a distasteful face and bit into his lower lip but eventually, he managed to mutter. "Kolya."

Carson winced before speaking up. "Sometimes our greatest fear comes out in our dreams. In the last months, you've suffered some very dramatic events. One at the hands of Kolya and now this Karakus person, and I expect ya brain just tied the two together but I'm no expert in that field of medicine. Are you sure ya won't talk to Kate?"

"No thanks, doc. I think giving you and the others an account of the events will probably help sort things out."

"Okay, if ya think so, I'll see if I can get us all together before supper tonight. In the mean time, try to sleep and rest as much as ya can."

John gave Carson a long-suffering look. "That's all I've been doing, Carson."

"Aye, well, ya still need to do plenty of it." With that, Carson left him in peace.

The rest of the day dragged by endlessly and John did as Carson wanted but his sleep was restless and disturbed by dreams, thankfully not about Kolya again.

He had a few visitors during the day but everyone seemed extra busy with one thing or another. It wasn't until late afternoon that John received another visitor, someone he wasn't expecting to see. He had just woken from yet another weird mixed-up dream. This time he'd been searching for water in a bone-dry desert and no matter where he had turned there was nothing but sand.

On waking, he realised that his throat was dry and slightly sore, probably came from sleeping on his back, no doubt with his mouth wide open. He just hoped to god he hadn't snored too loudly.

He was just about to reach for the glass of water kept by his bedside, when a hand grabbed it and handed it to him. John looked up to say thanks and came face to face with his superior officer - Caldwell.

"Lieutenant Colonel," Caldwell addressed him, using John's full title. "I'm glad to see you're looking a lot better."

John nodded politely. "Thank you, Sir. I'm getting there."

"I expect Dr. Weir has mentioned that I've been doing your job in your absence."

John looked surprised. No one had mentioned this and he had automatically assumed that Major Lorne had been running things. "No, she hasn't mentioned anything yet but this is the first day that I've been more err … with it." John emphasised, feeling the need to defend Elizabeth.

"Yes, well, I have been and I must say you---." John was spared from hearing any more by the timely arrival of his team and Elizabeth.

"Colonel Caldwell." Elizabeth piped up. "It's nice to see you here."

Caldwell gave her a smile. "Yes, well, I thought I'd better pay the Colonel a visit now that he can stay awake for longer than five minutes. But if you don't mind, I have things that need my attention. I'll speak to you some other time, Sheppard." With that, Caldwell quickly left.

John followed him with his eyes. "What was all that about?"

"I'm sorry, John, I should have told you before but he has been running things in---"

Interrupting Elizabeth with a loud groan, John pulled a face. "Yeah, he told me. Does that mean I'm going to have to put everything back to normal again? He altered so much the last time that it took me weeks to reorganise."

Elizabeth smiled at his depressed expression. "I'm sorry but we thought---"

"That I wasn't coming back." John finished for her. She simply nodded. "Okay, if you can all find a seat, folks, I'll tell you a little of what happened on Tandara. Carson thinks it will help me come to terms with it. By the way, where is he?"

"I'm here." Carson called as he sauntered across the infirmary. "I just had one or two things to attend to. Are you sure you're up to it, Colonel?"

"I'm fine, doc. Come on, I just want to get this over and done with."

When they had all settled and in true John Sheppard style, he gave a very abridged version of what happened on Tandara with the occasional interruption from Rodney.

John failed to mention the chaining, the beatings, or his incarceration in the cage. However, he did tell them about the gold mine and its dreadful working conditions. He also talked about Seth and asked after him. Nobody seemed too sure about what happened to the slaves in the mine, but Elizabeth promised to make inquiries during her next meeting with the new council.

This seemed to satisfy John for the time being although, he murmured. "As soon as I'm fit enough, I'd like to go back to the planet."

The others exchanged a look of concern before Elizabeth piped up. "If you're sure, but it will be a little while before you're fit enough."

Carson nodded. "Aye, ya have a ways to go yet, Colonel." He guessed like the others that John hadn't told them everything. Between what Sirena had told them and the state that John had been in that much was clear, but he decided to remain quiet and see how John coped. The Colonel was a very private man and he wouldn't appreciate being quizzed for more details right now.

Of course, that didn't account for the one person on John's team who couldn't keep his mouth shut. "How did your feet end up looking like you'd walked on glass?" Rodney asked.

John looked stumped for a minute. "No shoes plus rough stones makes a bad combination when you're not used to it."

Rodney didn't seem satisfied. "And all that blood."

John stifled a yawn before answering. "Like I told you, I killed two guards, so most of it wasn't mine."

Rodney was just about to ask more questions when Carson decided to intervene. "That's enough, Rodney. I think the Colonel has had enough for today and it's nearly suppertime, so I'm ordering ya all out of the infirmary."

Elizabeth and Teyla nodded and were the first to make a move. Wishing John a good night, the two women departed.

Carson nearly had to run Ronon and Rodney out but eventually they left too, leaving him alone with John.

After checking his patient over once more, Carson looked at him seriously. "Ya certainly kept a few things out of your recount didn't ya?"

"Ah come on, doc, they didn't need to know all the gory details."

"Aye, I suppose you're right but it was meant to help you come to terms with what happened. I just hope it has, otherwise I'm calling Kate."

John smiled up at Carson after another huge yawn. "I'll be fine, Carson. I'm just darn grateful to be alive and back home."

"Aye, I'm sure ya are." Carson murmured, before leaving Sheppard to rest some more.

Half an hour later, Sirena carefully approached John's bed carrying a tray with his supper of rich vegetable soup and fresh crusty bread, which she had made herself with permission from the canteen staff. She smiled at the sight of him lightly snoring with his mouth open. He looked so young and relaxed. Once again, she thanked the gods for delivering him from the clutches of death.

Carefully placing the tray on the little table that fitted across the bed, she murmured softy. "John, I have brought you supper. I cooked it myself."

John opened a bleary eye to greet the older woman. He hadn't intended to sleep before eating but it seemed that his body still needed it. "Oh hi, Sirena." he greeted as he attempted to sit up.

Sirena helped him a little but she made no real move to openly mother him. She hadn't done so for days now as her intuition told her that he wouldn't appreciate it, especially in front of the male members of his team or any his men. The knowledge of what John truly commanded had left her astounded and even more grateful that he had survived. _Fool Karakus for taking on such a man,_ she thought as she positioned the little table before him and then sat down on a chair by his bed.

John smiled up at her. "Thanks. Mmmmm this looks good," he stated before picking up the spoon and digging in. He sighed with appreciation, compared to most of the slops he'd had on Tandara, this was heaven. "You're a great cook."

Sirena blushed slightly. "I was lucky to have good masters before Karakus bought me. The mistress taught me how to cook when I was still quite young. The recipe for this soup comes from Teyla's deceased friend Charin. Apparently she was also wonderful cook."

John nodded sadly. "Yes, she was." He took another spoonful but before popping it in his mouth, he asked. "How is the tour of Atlantis going?"

"Oh my goodness, you have such wonderful things here. Today Teyla took me to one of the piers using something called a transporter. At first, I was very scared of using it but it is truly amazing."

John smiled at her enthusiasm. She was like this every time she talked about the city, so he relaxed and finished his soup while she told him about her pleasure and the wonder at watching the rough sea lap against the beautiful city. It was like listening to a child after their first trip to Disneyland.

Eventually, quite a while after John had finished his supper, Sirena stopped talking. He really didn't mind listening to her and it pleased him that she was finally able to enjoy the wonders of a free life. However, the break in conversation gave him the opportunity to say. "I haven't thanked you yet for helping me. I don't think I would have survived without it."

Sirena looked at him earnestly. "You are more than welcome. I always sensed a power and strength in you that went beyond the normal. I think I realised quite early on that you could be the Master's undoing. Thankfully my intuition proved true."

Feeling no awkwardness, John simply replied. "He was an awful man."

Sirena nodded in agreement. "Gone forever."

"Yep, gone forever." John answered around a huge yawn.

Sirena saw it and quickly rose to take the tray. "I think it is time I left. Sleep well, John," she whispered just as a nurse came up to settle him for the night.

"You, too." John called after her before smiling up at the nurse who had started to take his stats.

The nurse smiled back. "She's a sweetie."

"Yep, she sure is."

Fifteen minutes later, feeling clean and ready to sleep, John snuggled into his pillow. He had a hunch that he would sleep better tonight and as the comforting sounds and smells of Atlantis surrounded him, he allowed himself to drift away.

tbc

_Well we're nearly at an end, just one more part to come so pleased stay tuned. _


	15. Chapter 15

The Price of Freedom – Epilogue

It took almost as long as John had been a slave for him to recover but finally after four weeks, he was able to go back on light duty.

This was his first day back and although Beckett had insisted that his left arm stay in a sling, he was able to use his computer, one handed. Surprisingly, Caldwell hadn't altered every single item. Although, there were still plenty of things that needed to be rearranged but it wouldn't take as long as John had thought.

As to Caldwell, he had quietly relinquished the position a week ago when he went back to his old command on the Daedalus. Elizabeth seemed greatly relived but said nothing as to why.

John sighed as he prepared to reorganise some of the offworld teams but just as he was about to hit the keyboard with his index finger, a polite knock sounded on his office door. Feeling slightly peeved by the interruption, he took his eyes off his computer and called. "Come in!" To his surprise, Sirena and Teyla entered the room.

Sirena looked a little sad as she cautiously approached his desk. "I came to say goodbye, John."

John looked at his new watch in surprise. "Wow, time sure goes by when you're stuck doing boring paper work. I didn't realise it was that late already. Come on, I'll walk with you to the gateroom." Standing up, he continued. "I'm only sorry that I can't come with you, Sirena. Carson won't let me go offworld yet but I promise to come and visit you in your new home as soon as I can."

Sirena smiled and said. "I will look forward to that." Before giving John's good hand a light squeeze.

A few minutes later, they left his office and as they walked towards the gateroom, John tried to reassure her. "I'm sure you'll be fine living with Teyla's people."

"If they are all as gracious as Teyla, I will be very happy."

"I can assure you that my people will welcome you with open arms and I will stay for a while until you have settled in." Teyla told her. "Then I plan to return to Atlantis to accompany you, Colonel, when you return to Tandara."

John nodded his thanks as Sirena whispered. "I do not wish to ever return to that planet again. I have nothing against some of the people but it holds too many bad memories for me."

"Yeah, I know what you mean but at least things seem to be moving in the right direction now."

"Yes, they are, John. The people of Tandara have much to thank you for."

John wanted to deny his involvement, but they had arrived in the gateroom and Sirena suddenly found herself surrounded by well-wishers who came to say goodbye.

Twenty minutes later, Sirena was ready to go with Teyla, but with one last gesture, she turned to John and whispered for his ears only. "Thanks to you, I got to see the world beyond my prison." Then she was gone to her new home.

-SGA-

Two weeks later.

The cool evening breeze ruffled his hair, making it stick up more than normal. Rodney turned towards him and chuckled at the sight before happily positioning his paper plane and sending it soaring into the air.

John watched it crash into the sea below. "You didn't fold that quite right."

"What! Oh and you can do better?"

"Sure. The design is critical if you want it to fly for a longer period. While I was stationed in Japan, I learnt the art of origami from an expert. She showed me several great designs including the Deltry and the Moth. Do you know that there is even a design call Canada Goose. I'll show you how the fold it if you like."

"What! Really?" Then Rodney realised something. "Oh, you were Kir---."

"Goddamn it, Rodney, stop saying that! Just because the expert was female didn't mean I was having it off with her." John said nothing more, but Rodney thought he detected a slight tinge of red in the pilot's cheeks.

Swallowing hard, McKay decided for his own health's sake to leave it at that. "Okay. You can show me how to fold that Canada whatzit some other time. Right now, I want to see if you can make a plane fly longer."

John grabbed a piece of paper and quickly folded it into one of the designs he mentioned. Then judging the wind speed and updraft, he launched the plane into the air. It soared for quite a while before taking a dive into the sea, but it had flown far longer then Rodney's effort.

"Hah, not so good,"

John turned and scowled at the scientist. "Well it was better than your effort. Besides you know that powerless flight has its limitations and is more difficult to achieve, especially over water."

"Yes, yes, you don't have to remind me about powerless flight over water, thank you" John cringed but said nothing.

Both deep in thought, they leaned on the railing and remained quiet until Rodney eventually broke the silence. "So, things are nearly back to normal, huh?"

"Yeah, things are nearly back to normal. I think the visit to Tandara helped a lot. How about you?"

Rodney didn't have to think for long. "Meeting up with Majel, Jonah and even Ramo was nice, but I really don't want to set foot on that planet again, if I can help it."

"Hopefully, you won't have to. Although, I wonder how long they can get away with not being culled."

"Wasn't that unbelievable? There they were thinking that by feeding the Wraith an odd slave or two, they would be protected. Then it turns out that the Wraith haven't been around for years."

John smiled. "Yeah, they were pretty stupid to believe that. I mean how naïve to leave an unwanted slave tied up on the edge of the feeding grounds and then believing that the Wraith had taken them when they disappeared. Then it turns out that they were beginning rescued by other discarded slaves who had set up their own community on the so-called feeding grounds."

"Ah, true, but how long can those ex-slaves survive if the Wraith decided to turn up again?"

John turned to Rodney. "That's questionable. Like the town slaves, some have asked to be liberated back to their home worlds. Elizabeth says it has been quite a nightmare trying to organize that. As for the Wraith, we'll do all we can to advise them but apart from that they're on their own."

"Like so many worlds."

John simply nodded as both men fell silent again, until he whispered. "It's good that Seth and the others from the mine will be all right. Carson even thinks that he'll be able to control Seth's epilepsy and help some of the slaves overcome their dust related illnesses."

"That's good to hear. What really happened on that planet, Sheppard?"

John chewed his lower lip. "I told you anything I wanted you to know, as for the rest … well … I rather not talk about it." Then John quickly changed the subject before Rodney could disagree. "Hey, how come it's back to Sheppard again?"

"What? I've always called you Sheppard or Colonel. Why should I change?"

John smiled warmly and shook his head. "Have it your way, McKay, but I distinctly remember you calling me John in the auction place."

Rodney shook his head, vigorously. "You must have been dreaming."

"Maybe, but---."

"There are no buts, Sheppard."

Holding up his hands, John conceded. "Okay," Then looking at his watch, he sighed and muttered. "Well, I'd better go and do some more paper work. Oh and ... err ... speak to Teyla regarding some super hero that her people have reported seeing."

"Yes, yes, you do that."

John quickly nodded and walked towards the door. Rodney smiled and watched him go, thinking, _It's certainly good to have you back … __**John,**_ before turning back to face the sea.

The End

_Well that's it. Thank you so much for all your super reviews and thanks to those who gave advice along the way. I hope that the story wasn't too cheesy or predicable as slave stories can be if you're not careful._


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